Once Upon An Engagement
by RKF55
Summary: What might have happened between the gazebo scene and the wedding? Almost all Maria/Georg, with a little Max/Elsa.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Notes: Sadly I do not own The Sound of Music or any of these wonderful characters._

_This is a longer piece, beginning the day after the gazebo scene, and running through Maria and Georg's engagement until the wedding. I've been working on this story for ages and think I finally have it pretty much the way I want it, so I hope to update pretty frequently. There is a little bit of Max / Elsa romance in here too, but even if that isn't your sort of thing then please give this story a go anyway – it's almost all Maria/Georg, and you can easily miss out the Max/Elsa bits without losing track of the story._

_Any comments, feedback or constructive criticism is really welcome so please leave a review if you have the time!_

_ONE_

Max Dettwelier arrived at the Von Trapp villa just after lunch time to be greeted by a scene which could best be described as perfect domestic bliss. He found the whole family gathered outside on the lawn by the lake, the eldest children engaged in a game of cards whilst the younger ones occupied themselves with a set of skipping ropes and a ball. Their beaming smiles, so painfully absent over the last week, were now back in force, and the impresario felt a smile tug at his own face as he ran his eyes across them. When his gaze at last dropped to the master of the house himself, leaning against the trunk of a tree, his former governess lying against his chest, his smile became a grin.

"Uncle Max!" Brigitta saw him first and ran over to greet him.

"Hello, my dear!" he replied brightly.

"Oh Uncle Max, you should have been here!" Louisa came running as well.

"Missed something, did I?!"

"Father and Fraulein Maria – they're engaged…! I mean, they're going to get married! Isn't it wonderful?!"

Max chuckled.

"Told you last night did they?"

"No – this morning…. You don't seem at all surprised, Uncle Max."

The impresario laughed again and allowed the two girls to lead him over to their father.

"Well it's about time," he answered, "And I'm very happy for all of you... Now then…!"

He stopped walking a few paces from the tree. Neither Maria nor Georg had seen them approach. They were talking quietly, their heads close together and their hands clasped tightly.

Brigitta giggled.

XX

"Ah, Max!" Brigitta's laugh had finally alerted Georg to the fact that they were being watched. He straightened up slightly and smiled in amusement as Maria flushed a delightful shade of pink.

"My congratulations to you both," Max replied bowing his head.

"Thank you, Herr Dettwelier," Maria answered, standing up and smiling.

"_Max_," he corrected her. He embraced her gently, kissing her cheek. "After all, you are practically part of the family now!"

"Fraulein Maria?" Marta called from across the lawn, "Will you come and play with us?"

Maria smiled at Georg and he shrugged.

"As much as I would like to, I'm sure I can't monopolise _all_ of your time, my love," he kissed her cheek softly and she reluctantly released his hand.

The two men watched as she walked towards Marta and Gretl, stopping to kneel down beside them.

"She said yes, then?" Max asked ironically.

Georg laughed, thinking back to the rather frank conversation he had shared with the impresario the previous afternoon.

"I never asked you - how long had you known?"

"That you loved her?" Georg answered with a nod, "Since about five minutes after I saw you together!"

"Max!"

"Alright, alright..." the impresario chuckled at his own exaggeration, "I knew for sure when she left the night of the party... But I suspected long before then..."

"Yes… you _and_ my daughters it seems…" Georg rolled his eyes in the direction of Liesl and Brigitta.

"How did they take the news?"

"Well… Very well," Georg answered with another smile, "I was going to wait 'til you'd returned to tell them but they knew something was afoot the moment they saw us at breakfast…" he suddenly frowned, "And you're later back than I thought you would be…. What kept you?"

"Oh, this and that," the impresario replied evasively, a smirk crossing his face. Georg frowned again.

"Did Elsa board her train safely?" he asked.

"No," Max answered, "As a matter of fact she's still at the Sacher. The first class coach was fully booked up."

Georg's eyebrows rose slightly and it was he who smirked this time.

"I offered to drive her to Vienna myself this afternoon," Max continued.

"You don't think that I should..."

"No I don't think that would be at all wise, Georg," he answered, "I think leaving a fair amount of distance between yourself and Elsa for a while would be prudent."

"Thank you for taking her," he answered, "Is she alright?"

"Yes, I'm sure she is," Max's eyes sparkled, "But I would ask you a favour, on her behalf..."

"Yes?"

"If you could delay the formal announcement of your engagement..." he paused, "Just until she has had time to settle back into Vienna... a week should do it!"

"Of course..."

"I just think for her to return to society _after_ the announcement has been made..."

"Max..." Georg interrupted, "I understand perfectly."

The impresario nodded his thanks.

"So will you be returning to Vienna as well?"

"Why? Have I outstayed my welcome?!" Max feigned offence.

"No, no, of course not!" Georg answered quickly, "In fact I would be very grateful if you would stay... I don't think I know of anyone else more capable of re-dressing gossip!"

"And there will no doubt be plenty of that!"

Georg grimaced, his eyes flicking back to Maria.

They stood in silence for a moment longer.

"Anyway," Max said at last, "I had better go and get my things together. I imagine I shall be gone three or four days..." he trailed off, a glimmer coming to his eye, "I trust that everything will stay... under control here?"

"_Whatever_ are you suggesting?"

"Nothing at all!" Max exclaimed. He looked over at Maria and smiled knowingly.

"No, I think I'm quite safe to leave you for now..." he paused, "She was a postulant after all..."

"_Max_...?"

"Not for too long mind- I'm sure that that will become quite a problem soon enough!"

He began to walk back towards the villa.

"Max?" Georg called after him, "_What_ will become a problem?"

The impresario turned, smiling rather wickedly, "Oh, this and that." He winked.

xxx

With a simple gold band, single cut diamond, and two sparkling midnight blue sapphires, the engagement ring somehow managed to be both fashionably modest and exquisitely beautiful. Just like the woman who would hopefully soon find it on her finger, Georg Von Trapp mused with a smile as he once again tilted the ring backwards and forwards, watching as light shone across its many facets.

His trip to Salzburg to purchase the ring had been one of the most enjoyable shopping trips he had ever undertaken. The whole city had felt fresh and new, abuzz with excitement, and certainly far happier than when he had last visited for that purpose*. The mood had been rather infectious, and indeed, anyone in Salzburg who knew anything at all about Captain Von Trapp would certainly have been surprised by him that day. After all, he was not usually a man who would find himself whistling his way through the streets, enthusiastically greeting shopkeepers he had never met before, and beaming at crowds of people with whom he had only the slightest acquaintance. He had even managed to look up at the onion tower of Nonnberg, and this time only felt a silly grin appearing on his face.

The ring had taken a long time to find, but he had known the moment he had laid eyes on it that it was the only one he wanted for his fiancée.

With that in mind he had asked her to take dinner with him that very evening. With the engagement ring safely tucked away in his pocket he had made his way to a small restaurant which he had often frequented with Agathe. Georg Von Trapp was the very last person who the manager had expected to see walking through the doors that August afternoon, but he was well remembered and had reserved his favourite table.

As their appointed hour fast approached, Georg surveyed himself critically in the mirror. A charcoal grey suit and tie, silver cufflinks, his hair combed neatly enough, cleanly shaven… he could not help but chuckle as his eyes panned up the glass to see his own worried refection staring back at him.

A memory, twenty years old, suddenly came to mind.

April 29th. Two days after the christening of his first command, and exactly fifty-two hours after he had first lain eyes on the beautiful Agathe Whitehead, he had stood in front of a mirror, steeling himself to see her again. He had been taking her to the theatre, he remembered - a relatively simple prospect, especially since three other couples would be attending too, yet one which - in the course of the fifty-two hours - had somehow become far more terrifying than anything he had ever known. Despite bragging of himself as a Casanova or some other legendary lover, and despite the (often exaggerated) number of 'conquests' he had once foolishly boasted about, the mere prospect of another conversation with a woman he suspected he could _actually_ come to care for, had been enough to render him with such a nervous jitter that he had been hardly able to speak a word to Agathe Whitehead for most of the evening.

He wondered, as he critically examined the extra lines on his forehead, whether two decades later he really felt any more prepared.

Perhaps not, he decided as he turned away from the mirror again, tucking the engagement ring into his lapel pocket. He took a deep breath.

It had been proven again then, that the right woman could have the unique power to strip years of experience from a man.

xx

For her part, Maria had never before known such a heightened sense of both excitement and nervousness. She too stood in front of a full length mirror, though unlike her fiancé, she was not alone. Liesl, Louisa, Brigitta, and Frau Schmidt were staring at her reflection too, all of them wearing identically self-satisfied smiles.

"You look beautiful," Liesl ventured after a few seconds.

Maria managed a smile at the woman in the mirror, who looked so different from her usual self that she was sure no one would ever recognise her.

"Thank you Liesl," she answered, offering her arm gladly to the Captain's daughter as she stepped closer, "And thank you for the dress."

Liesl beamed. She had managed to find the dress earlier that afternoon after a suggestion from Frau Schmidt that it might fit Maria perfectly. In a powder blue colour, with a cream bodice and short cream sleeves, Liesl had always declared that it did not suit her colouring, and the dress had lived in the back of her wardrobe since the year she had been given it for her birthday.

"But it will suit your complexion tremendously, Fraulein!" she had declared, and indeed the dress did do just that.

It had not fit terribly well at first, though this had not proved a problem for long. Liesl, Louisa, Frau Schmidt, and even the cook – who had, after all, always harboured a secret desire to become a dress-maker – had quickly taken it upon themselves to make various alterations, and Maria had spent a large part of the afternoon whilst the Captain was in town standing with her arms spread out as the housekeeper and other would-be-seamstresses bustled around her, brandishing needles, pins, clips and reels upon reels of different coloured threads. Finally, with the aid of the upstairs maids, who Frau Schmidt had marshalled into helping, the dress had been transformed- the waist was cinched in, the sleeves puffed out, and the neckline and bodice entirely refitted to Maria's measurements.

When the housekeeping staff finally presented the dress to Maria she had been rather overwhelmed, seeing their gesture as a true testament to their acceptance of the engagement.

With a small string of pearls also borrowed from Liesl around her neck, her outfit was finally complete. Maria only hoped that it would be appropriate for wherever the Captain was taking her- after all, he had refused to tell her the name of the restaurant, and had simply reassured her with a wink and a promise that it would be a surprise she would very much enjoy.

As the clock in the hallway chimed six, Maria found herself walking out onto the landing, the fluttery feeling in her stomach intensifying with every step she took. She saw the Captain the moment she reached the bannister rail. He was standing with his back to the steps, staring across the lobby, one hand resting against his lapel, the other holding a small spring of Edelweiss.

The fluttery feeling in her stomach grew again as she began to descend the stairs towards him.

He did not turn around until she reached the second set of steps, and then seemed to flinch slightly in surprise as he caught sight of her. She stopped, suddenly self-conscious, until she saw a smile spreading across his face. The look of pure, undisguised and unashamed admiration which he gave her made flush bright red, even as she returned it with a shy smile of her own.

Her feet seemed unable to take another step as he walked slowly up the staircase to meet her. His eyes remained on hers the entire time, and for a second she made to chastise herself for noticing before, with another smile, she checked herself, and for the first time allowed herself to admire him without feeling guilty. The effect was quite dramatic, and she suddenly felt her breath catch once again, her stomach now spinning in somersaults as he stopped on the step below her.

"You look absolutely exquisite, my darling," he whispered just loudly enough for her to hear. She blushed again.

"So do you, Captain," she managed before breaking his gaze in embarrassment.

The stupid, silly smile remained firmly fixed on his face as he gently lifted his hand.

"If you will permit me…?"

He held out the Edelweiss and she nodded carefully, unsure of exactly what he intended to do until he unclipped the pin. Delicately, he attached it to the bodice of the dress, just below the neckline, and though he took great pains not to touch her, she still felt herself shiver once again.

"Thank you," she whispered.

His lips curled into a smile, and as her gaze dropped towards them, she saw him beginning to move closer. Immediately she remembered the previous evening and their gentle, wonderful kisses in the gazebo. It was strange, she mused distractedly - she had never kissed a man before in her whole life, yet all throughout day she had not been able to help thinking about it, and wanting to feel his lips on hers again. Perhaps it was one of those things which became more desirable the more often it was done.

His lips were mere millimetres from her own, his face close enough to hers for Maria to smell a delicious concoction of soap, cologne and some distinctly masculine fragrance of his own, when suddenly they were interrupted by the sound of a stifled giggle from somewhere above them.

Immediately they both spun in the direction of the noise to see the Captain's five daughters clustered against the bannister rail. They did not quite have time to hide their grins as the couple turned towards them, and although Maria felt herself blushing yet again, she could not help but grin back at them.

The Captain merely fastened his daughters with an inquisitive look, raising his eyebrows towards them as though enquiring what on earth it was that they found so amusing. He could not fool them for long though, for the girls knew their father well enough to see his mouth twitching into the tell-tale smirk he was trying to hide.

They erupted into giggling again as Georg's face finally fell into a smile.

"Now just what's so funny, hmm?" he asked them, sweeping his arm suddenly around Maria and pulling her to his side. He kissed her forehead gently before looking back towards his daughters.

Their giggling intensified and Maria watched as her fiancé rolled his eyes and waved them away as though quite exasperated.

"Go on, off with you all!" he exclaimed, leading Maria towards the front door, "And I expect you in bed and asleep by the time we get back!"

He winked at them.

"Yes Father!"

They were suddenly gone in another chorus of giggling and scampering of footsteps.

Georg chuckled and squeezed Maria's arm as he turned back to face her.

"Shall we?"

He gestured towards the door.

*_from my second story, Revelations._


	2. Chapter 2

_TWO_

It was a wonderful evening in a most perfect restaurant. With its intimate and cosy atmosphere, candlelit tables and charming staff, Maria had quite fallen in love with the place before they had even been seated at their table. She could easily see why her fiancé particularly liked this restaurant above some of Salzburg's other establishments- with a name like 'The Mariner' she was not surprised to find that the décor was almost entirely oceanic-themed; anchors, old-fashioned ships' barometers, a couple of sailors' hats, lengths of fishing tackle and a colossal old whaling harpoon were hung tastefully on the walls- even the windows were designed to remind one of the sea as they were either round or oval, though much bigger than Maria presumed such ones were on board ships. Yes, it was a perfect place for a retired sea Captain, and it appeared that Georg had once frequented it often, for they were greeted by the smiling manager who shook their hands enthusiastically, beaming broadly at them as he expressed his delight that his 'most famous and well-admired client' had at last returned to the establishment.

The meal was the finest Maria had ever eaten, though at no time during the four sumptuous courses did she give the food even half of her attention – her dining companion made sure of that.

Their conversation was initially a little awkward, though almost immediately lapsed back into the easy manner they had become accustomed to over the summer. There was much which needed to be said of course, but for the moment both Maria and Georg were content to simply enjoy each other's company.

The two agonising weeks since the evening of the ball had been a trial for both of them, Georg reflected, but there would be plenty of time in the future to discuss such difficult subjects. For the moment he was just delighted to find that Maria's forthright manner towards him had not changed, and that whilst she seemed rather shy of his romantic overtures, she appeared flattered by them nonetheless.

He flirted with her throughout the meal- not enough to be overbearing, nor to make her feel uncomfortable, but certainly the staff of the restaurant- who, in respect of Max's wishes, had only been informed by Georg that Maria was 'someone special to him' when he had introduced her- were left in absolutely no doubt of the couple's feelings towards each other.

Indeed, Frau Franciscka returned to the kitchen via her husband Antonio's office after delivering the couple's main course, her hand pressed over her heart and a dreamy look on her face. Her husband had merely rolled his eyes at his wife's extolments, teasing her again about the fancies she had always harboured for Georg Von Trapp, though secretly he was just as delighted as she that the Captain had found happiness again, and with a woman who appeared to be just as forthright, intelligent, modest, and unaffected as his late wife had been.

They stayed in the restaurant for a long time, watching as darkness gradually gathered and the lights of the city burst into life. Eventually, both sated and full of delicious food, they bid goodbye to the manager and his wife and though Georg heard Antonio's hearty chuckle from behind, he thankfully missed seeing Franciscka swoon against her husband as he shyly offered Maria his jacket and then rested his arm around her shoulders.

The night air was rather cool - too cool, Georg decided reluctantly, for them to take a walk by the riverside. Instead they made their way through the streets in a comfortable silence, exchanging only a few words every now and again. As they reached the horse-pond in the central square and came within sight of the car, a gentle music started up, floating almost lazily over the rooftops of the city.

"Oh, that's beautiful!" Maria exclaimed as they stopped next to the car to listen.

Georg turned to face her.

"Yes," he agreed, "It is indeed."

He lifted his hand and caressed it delicately across her cheek, before pulling back just slightly to look in her eyes. She smiled at his nervous expression.

"Georg…?" she tried out his name.

"Yes?"

"Thank you for tonight."

He was about to reply but she took him by surprise as she leant towards him again, kissing him gently on the cheek.

It took a lot of willpower not to sweep her into his arms and kiss her properly, but Georg held back, keeping the moment light as the last notes of the song faded away.

"Shall we?"

XX

Georg drove leisurely back to the villa, hoping to prolong the evening as long as possible, and keen to arrive back after the children were in bed. He still had one more surprise planned, and was determined that this one would not be interrupted by his five giggling daughters.

They were in luck, for they arrived back to a silent house.

"Come with me!"

He hardly gave Maria a chance to protest as, keeping his arm firmly wrapped around her, he led them towards the ballroom doors.

She frowned in confusion at the smile on his face as he paused in front of the doors, spinning around so that his back was pressed against them.

"Captain, what…?"

He cut off her words by leaning in and gently capturing her lips in a kiss. As he stepped back again he pushed open the left-side door, allowing her to look inside first. She gasped.

"How on earth…?"

Her words faded as she stepped inside the room.

"I confess I had some help…" he gestured around at the many candles, now filling the room with an enchanting, twinkling glow, "And here…"

He stepped away from her and hurried over to the phonograph, setting it going. A soft melody filled the room, and he smiled again, still somewhat nervous as he walked back towards her.

"Dance with me?" he whispered, holding out his arms.

Maria looked rather dazed, but nevertheless stepped gracefully into his hold, allowing him to lead her gently in a series of uncomplicated, almost lazy steps. For a few moments they stayed like that, until, deciding that the dance did not need such a formal posture, he tugged gently on her back and let out a low sigh of contentment as she fell against him, her arms encircling him and her forehead pressed against his chest.

It was not at all like their last dance- the Laendler- this dance was simple and slow, but as different as it was, it meant just as much to Maria. Looking back, she would always consider the Laendler as the moment she had first fallen in love with Captain Georg Von Trapp, but that evening, turning slowly around in his embrace, was the first time she imagined what it could be like to spend the rest of her life so close to him. She was almost overwhelmed by the emotion, and perhaps he sensed it, for he pulled away from her slightly, and lifted her chin with his fingers.

"I realised there was something I never did properly," he said suddenly. She opened her mouth to ask him what it was, but her words turned into gasp as, pulling the engagement ring from his pocket, he flipped open the lid of the box and suddenly dropped down to one knee.

"Maria, my love," he said softly, holding his breath, "Will you marry me?"

He watched as tears appeared suddenly in her eyes, one or two escaping to roll down her cheeks.

"Yes," she replied quietly, "I love you, Georg."

With another smile, this one of sweet relief – for perhaps this wonderful, marvellous, _perfect_, woman really _had _come to love him, he considered - Georg rose to his feet and slowly slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly.

XX

"_Is that insecurity I hear from the great Ritter Von Trapp?" Max enquired, laughing._

"_Maria was to be a nun..." Georg explained, his tone irritated now, "May still _be_ a nun in fact!"_

The words washed over Max Dettwelier as he stared out across the rain-slicked road.

"_Oh she will not be allowed to become a nun! You're too much of a man for that to happen!"_

"_Max!"_

His lips curved into a smile as he remembered, and he laughed softly before flicking his eyes across to the other side of the car. The sight of Elsa Schrader, somehow just as beautiful, elegant, and regal whilst sleeping as she was awake, caused his smile to falter.

Underneath her bravado she was hurting, and Georg would probably never realise quite how much.

He had first taken her hand, he remembered, at that last and most terrible meal, and held it under the table until the very moment they had risen…. Then it had been _he_ who she had spoken to before she had approached Georg, and, when the whole affair had at last been decided, the only one who had seen her tears.

There was nothing that he had been able to say, and there still wasn't. It was just a horrible, tragic affair. And somehow, he mused, the most tragic thing of all was that everything had come right in the end. Georg would be happy with Maria, and she with him. And as for Elsa... well, she had explained it well enough herself that night:

"_Will you be alright?"_ he asked her on their way into Salzburg, at the very moment, perhaps, that Georg had been confessing _his_ true feelings.

"_Oh I should think so_," she had replied breezily, "_In time_…. _Perhaps one day we will look back on all this and laugh about it, do you think, my dear Max?_"

"_Honestly though_..." she had gone on, "_The Georg Von Trapp who _I_ was in love with turned out not to exist at all_ - _the life of the party... the Ritter Von Trapp title... the man who would 'soak himself in champagne and gossip gaily with bores he detested'…. Ha! He wasn't that man at all!"_

"_And I suppose I wasn't really the Elsa Schrader he thought I was either.._." she had added a second later.

"_Quite_," he had agreed softly, "_Only a few of us are privileged enough to know her_."

"_And if I never get the chance to tell you this again, my dear_," he had continued when they had reached the Hotel Sacher, "_I do believe that you are _truly_ remarkable…. And that quite honestly, Georg is an utter, damnable fool for letting you go._"

It had been those words which had prompted what had happened next, he was sure of it. After such a wretched, horrible day, Elsa likely would have kissed _anyone_ who had offered her such kindness… or at least that was what he had told himself ever since. Yes, certainly she would never have kissed _Maximilian Dettwelier_ if she had been in possession of _any_ good sense, for the impresario knew well enough that he possessed none of the qualities the Baroness purported to want in a man…. Intention aside, however, that was precisely what she _had_ done, and it had been… well, quite marvellous really.

They had parted after just a few seconds, and it had taken only a minute after that for a heavy sloth of awkwardness to overcome them. He would not come inside, he had assured her, for he respected her _far_ too much to even _contemplate_ compromising her integrity… but it _wasn't_ that he did not believe her desirable!, he had hurriedly answered her hurt look, for indeed he actually desired nothing _more_ than to sweep her out of the car and straight into a hotel room….

It was a predicament Elsa had understood well, but after weeks of flirting and dancing around intimacy with Georg Von Trapp, not one which she had apparently wished to consider any further. Another kiss had silenced her companion rather nicely, and though he had not in the end stayed with her in the hotel, it had hardly mattered, Max considered.

And where did that leave them now, he wondered. They had taken breakfast together the following morning – for he had not wanted to leave before he had seen her onto the train - and though he had been quite sure that she would apologise for the moment they had shared, Elsa had in fact done nothing of the sort. On the contrary, she had merely bestowed another kiss to his cheek and squeezed his arm reassuringly before he had left to return to the Von Trapp villa.

He sighed heavily as he regarded her again. Would this spell an end to their friendship, he wondered, or even, perhaps, the start of something else?


	3. Chapter 3

_THREE_

"Hiking boots and climbing gear then, my dear?" Georg spun around, "... or do you not intend to wear me out so thoroughly?"

He winked and Maria smiled shyly, acknowledging her fiancé's smirk.

"Anything but a jacket and tie, I think," she replied.

"Hmm..." he agreed before turning slightly, looking across the foyer, "I wonder if Frau Schmidt has any idea where my boots might be..."

"I can ask her if you like...?"

Georg pressed a kiss to her forehead, "Thank you. I'll be upstairs then."

Frau Schmidt, it transpired, not only knew where the Captain's walking boots were, but had already found and polished them.

"Oh I was sure it would only be a matter of time before he came asking for them," she explained briskly to Maria, "It was always one of his favourite pastimes, walking in the mountains..." she hefted the boots up onto the counter top in the pantry, "He and the late Baroness Von Trapp were very fond of their trips to the countryside."

"He did mention that - something about wanting to be out in the fresh air as much as possible when he wasn't on board a submarine."

The housekeeper shuddered even as she began to leave the pantry again, "Infernal devices," she declared, "I most certainly would never set foot in one, and neither did dear Agathe... though he did want her to."

"Really?" that surprised Maria, "Why?"

"Oh only when it was safely in harbour," Frau Schmidt went on, "Showing off his dominion I should think!" she laughed lightly before disappearing back into the kitchen to finish work on the picnic.

Maria pondered on this as she made her way up the stairs and along the hallway, past the school room and towards the Captain's quarters. As she tapped lightly on the door she realised that she had never actually been inside his room before, and as she made her way inside, it suddenly occurred to her that soon this would soon become _her_ bedroom as well.

The thought was both exciting and rather disconcerting at the same time.

"I'll be out in a moment," Georg's voice issued from the adjoining bathroom.

Maria took the opportunity to look around, finding the room to be much as she had expected. Dark pine furniture, navy blue drapes, a thick beige carpet and very few purely aesthetic features, save for a ship's anchor resting on vanity table next to the bed. That did surprise her and she lifted it to take a closer look.

"It's from the very first ship I ever commanded," she jumped slightly, his words surprising her as she had not heard the bathroom door open.

She lifted her gaze from the anchor to look at him and gasped in surprise at his appearance. He wore dark, well-fitted trousers with a brown belt, a light brown shirt with the top button undone and the lapels folded back, and a thin grey woollen scarf - more a homage to a tie than for any genuine warmth.

"Is that a gasp of approval or of horror, Fraulein?" he teased.

She coloured slightly.

"Approval, Captain..." she began, "You look very..." she broke away from his gaze, suddenly embarrassed, and rested her eyes back on the anchor, "...very _handsome_."

He did not answer, instead walking over to stand beside her.

"Thank you."

He lifted her chin gently, a smile playing on his lips as he took the anchor from her hand. He placed it back on the vanity table before drawing her slowly towards him, just as he had the first time he had kissed her. This kiss lasted somewhat longer than that first one had done.

At last he pulled away slowly, his hands now resting on her arms and she met his gaze again. She could see the same mixture of love and lust in his eyes which she often had before, and realised in surprise that such a combination no longer scared her.

"I have your boots, Captain," she managed at last.

"My dear, given what we've just done, I hardly think it is appropriate for you to continue to call by my title, do you hmm?" he moved away to sit down on the edge of the bed, a sudden gleam in his eyes.

She wondered if he wanted her to come and sit beside him.

"You will always be my Captain," she answered with a smile.

He laughed, smirking as he began to pull on the boots.

"I suppose it never really was a title of deference, was it my dear?" he remarked, "Not even when we met, though I did my very best to intimidate you…."

Maria laughed.

"Yes, I wasn't sure who was trying harder to drive me out of the house – you, or the children!"

He shook his head, "Their imagination never failed to astound me!" he remembered, "Toads, snakes, spiders, rats..." he shuddered, "Glue on toothbrushes, in shoes, on poor Fraulein Helga's hairbrush..." he could not help but laugh as he remembered that particular incident, when the governess in question had charged down the stairs and straight into his study, the hairbrush still firmly attached to her head, to declare her resignation.

"But you did not think to warn me of any of that?!"

"Oho!" he laughed, "I decided within several minutes of meeting you that you would be quite capable of taking care of yourself, my dear…. And after that ridiculous pinecone incident..." he winked again, "I knew that we had _all_ met our match!"

She shrugged and laughed again, his words suddenly reminding her of her conversation with Frau Schmidt.

"Do you think I would fare badly on a submarine, Captain?... _Georg_!"

He raised his eyebrows.

"I would think it would be the _submarine_ rather than you which would fare badly," he chuckled, "I wouldn't count on it surviving very long knowing your propensity for accidents!" his eyes sparkled at her as she laughed, "Why do you ask?"

"Oh Frau Schmidt was just saying that you once wanted your wife to go aboard."

"Ah, was she now?" the wicked, flustering half-smile reappeared on his face as he leant back on his elbows and crossed his legs. He regarded her carefully.

"She never did though," he went on, "And don't worry my dear, I never wanted to take her into battle if that was what Frau Schmidt would have you believe!"

"She said you wanted to show off."

He laughed heartily now, "Guilty, I suppose," he held up his hands, though he still wore that same smile, making her quite certain that he was not telling her everything.

"It never did appeal to her though," he continued, suddenly looking rather wistful.

"Well in that I would have to agree," Maria answered, "I cannot see that it would hold _any_ attraction for me."

He raised his eyebrows again, as though once again considering the wisdom of his next words.

She watched, intrigued, as he pursed his lips slightly before continuing.

"You mean you do not like the idea of being… _romanced_ on the wilds of the open ocean… hmm, my darling?" He leant further back on the bed.

Maria flushed again. She met his gaze as he stared at her, deciding that when he put it like _that_, the idea suddenly became much more appealing.

Georg leant forwards slightly as she took an unconscious step closer towards him. He would certainly be romancing her in that very room in the future, and at that moment it was quite difficult not to imagine just what that could be like.

He must have been imagining it too, for a second later he was back on his feet and kissing her again. Still as gentle as he had ever been, there was a new urgency and excitement in this embrace.

They were interrupted by a tap at the door.

"Captain, sir...?" it was Frau Schmidt.

Georg took a deep steadying breath as he took a step away from Maria.

"Come in!"

XX

Later that evening, when the children were in bed, Georg lit a fire in the grate of the study and they sat together on the sofa, Maria's head resting on his shoulder. The nights were drawing in now as August settled in to September, and suddenly the warm balmy evenings of the summer seemed very far away.

"Thank you for today," he began, "I can't remember ever enjoying a walk in the mountains so much."

"Ah well… you had never been to _my_ mountain before!"

He chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.

"Isn't it so lovely and peaceful...?" Maria sighed a second later.

"Ah, I'm afraid we can't get used to it yet, my dear," he replied, "Max telephoned from Vienna- he will back in the morning."

"Is the Baroness-?"

"Oh I'm sure Elsa will have found her own way of telling people what happened," he grimaced slightly, "And I do deserve it..." he paused, "I am very sorry, my love..."

"Sorry?" she shifted to look at him.

"I was a stubborn, pig-headed fool for not realising how I felt about you sooner," he explained.

Maria shook her head firmly.

"No you-"

"I think I owe you an explanation…" he began again, "We haven't really talked about what happened… after that night…"

"Do we need to?"

"Yes. I don't want you to ever doubt-"

"Oh but I don't doubt…" she interrupted, "I mean I-"

He pressed a finger over her lips, for he knew that she did – just the tiniest, smallest amount, but too much all the same.

"The days were the easiest," he started, shifting slightly and drawing Maria closer to him, "I had to hide my feelings for the children's sake…" he took her hand and she squeezed it gently, "And then Max and Elsa were so determined to occupy me in the evenings there was hardly time to think of anything else…" he paused, "But the night-times…" he sighed softly, "There wasn't a single thing I could find to do which would stop me from thinking of you then…. You always made it back to me, and in the end I stopped fighting it…" he kissed the top of her head, "I thought the memories were the only thing I would ever have."

"Oh Georg I-"

He shushed her gently.

"I went to the gazebo every evening," he continued, "I remembered what you'd said about the stars…" Maria frowned, "that if you looked hard enough, you could see the faces of everyone you loved… do you remember?"

Maria smiled.

"Yes… I do remember… I told the children once… "

"And you were right there…" he went on, "… As contrite as it sounds, it was a great comfort."

Maria squeezed his hand again.

"Would you…" she faltered on her question.

"Go on…. Please."

"Would you ever… have come to the abbey? If I hadn't come back?"

There lay the root of her worries, Georg realised with a grimace.

"I don't know…" he answered honestly, "I was afraid of why you'd left…. Of what I felt…" he took a deep breath, "I never… counted on falling in love again..." he met her gaze cautiously, "And then there was Elsa… and she was uncomplicated and I knew that she could never get to me as deeply as you had… and the children needed a mother and I wanted… oh I don't know what I wanted…" he paused, "Can you forgive me?"

She nodded carefully.

"I'm sorry too," she replied, "I shouldn't have run away - I should have had the strength to face you."

"We _both_ should have had the strength to face each other," he corrected and kissed her softly again before laughing, "And perhaps that's a quality we share then - an unfortunate ability to run away from our problems!"

"That's almost exactly what the Reverend Mother said…" Maria replied, "She understood- far better than I did- that one must find out the will of God - however long it takes and however little we want to believe it."

She smiled, remembering that exchange in the Mother Abbess' office.

"I could repeat it back to her as a mantra and I thought I knew what it meant," she continued, "But really I had no idea."

"That's why she sent you here then?"

Maria nodded, "To see if I could expect it of myself..." she remembered.

"And then when I returned..." she went on, a shadow falling over her face, "Even more determined than ever that I would shut myself away - as far from any sea Captains as I could - she knew that I had found my path in life..." she shook her head, "But that I was as resolute as ever not to follow it!"

They both laughed.

"There was another thunderstorm the evening before you came back, you know?" Georg said a second later, a smile flicking over his face, "And I knew quite well then that I loved you…. Even Frau Schmidt surmised as much!"

"Frau Schmidt?!"

"Yes… quite…!" he suddenly grinned, settling Maria comfortably in his arms as he cast his mind back, "I was locked outside if I remember rightly, and being a spectacular fool, I decided to climb up to your window-"

"All the way up there?!"

"Well I decided that if my children could manage it, then why on earth couldn't I?" he replied, "I'm not so old and decrepit yet…!" he laughed again, "Anyway, Frau Schmidt had left one of your dresses out on the bed – the one you wore the night of the party…" he chuckled sheepishly, running a hand through his hair, "And I only sat down for a minute, I'm sure… though the next thing I knew she was waking me up in the morning… I must have made for quite a sight!"

Maria laughed readily.

"And God bless her, the dear woman didn't say a word about it," he shook his head, "Madness, wasn't it?"

"Love has a funny way of making people mad," Maria answered.

Georg frowned, "You say that with a great deal of authority…" he teased, "For a woman who until a week ago was committed to life in a convent..."

"I didn't live in a convent my whole life Captain!" she replied indignantly, "I do know something! My school was-"

He threw back his head and laughed.

"School, my dear? I don't recall learning much about such subjects in the classroom…."

"Well… and books – novels…"

"Ah, yes, there so many wonderful tales detailing the mysteries of love, aren't there?! Is there any other subject about which so much erroneous gibberish has been written, do you think?"

"And you have read such things, have you Captain?"

"_Georg_," he replied immediately, "And yes – Agathe was rather fond of them and I wanted to know what silliness she was putting into her head," he leant back on the sofa, stretching his legs out, "And in fact she quite agreed with me - no one can learn about such things from Austen or Bronte or any of those other ridiculous females –"

"Captain you are insulting some of this century's finest literacy works!"

"_Georg!"_ he repeated in exasperation, "And alright, perhaps I would not go that far…" he backpedalled slightly, "I agree that Miss Austen and Miss Bronte produced fine works of fiction. But if I recall, they were _Miss_ Austen and _Miss_ Bronte…" he paused triumphantly, "No, books will not do, my dear – not for everything!"

His smile was irritatingly smug.

"You know as a matter of fact, _Georg_, I never much liked the idea," Maria replied, "The very thought of kissing a man was quite… abhorrent."

"Abhorrent?!"

"Um-hmm."

"I take it you've changed your mind?"

Maria fought to keep from smirking herself.

"Right then…" he went on when she did not reply, "Well that sounds very much like a challenge, my dear Fraulein…"

She had hardly a second to reply before he had tipped her head back and pressed his lips to hers. He kissed her properly then, as properly and thoroughly as he could.

They gazed at each other in utter contentment when they parted.

"That was not... _abhorrent_, I take it then?" he teased her softly, brushing his palm across her cheek and running his thumb over her delightfully swollen lips.

"Quite the opposite, Captain..."


	4. Chapter 4

_FOUR_

It was less than a week before the first murmurings of scandal reached the Von Trapp villa. Society was alight with speculation about Captain Von Trapp and his children's governess, Max had revealed awkwardly on his return from the capital. Rumours were abounding, he had gone on regretfully, and phrases of dishonour, impropriety, and deflowering, whirling around the Viennese elite in abundance. It seemed that Elsa, he had eventually confessed, had made it her business to reveal the engagement after all, a fact which Georg was undeniably furious about. However slighted the Baroness might have felt, he had declared angrily, she had had no right to begin spreading her version of events before he had made any formal announcement himself.

Max had wormed his way quite nicely out of expressing his opinion, and Georg had not pursued the matter any further - the subject of Baroness Schräder was, after all, still a most uncomfortable conversational point.

For the first few days Georg stood firm – after all, he had no qualms about what any rumours might do to _his_ reputation, and the matter only reconfirmed to him how much he utterly loathed gossip, the lifeblood of the upper echelons of society. No, he did not mind what anyone thought about _him_, but Maria was different matter.

The gossip about her made him as angry as he had ever been.

Eventually, and after some careful chiding from Max, Georg was forced to conclude that more chaperones were needed in the villa, and as quickly as possible. For it was indeed true, he had at last conceded to the impresario, that the word of his best friend would not carry the same weight to the gossiping socialisers as that of well-to-do people entirely unrelated to the happenings in Aigen. Especially not, as the impresario had pointed out, when the version of events being spun around the Viennese drawing rooms was so much more interesting than the truth.

Andreas and Marie Ebner* had been Georg's first choice and they had been more than happy to accept his invitation. They had arrived with the reassurance that they did not believe the stories for a moment - Maria was most definitely not with child, Frau Ebner had declared the moment she had laid eyes on his fiancée, 'after all, look at her!' she had gestured towards Maria's figure theatrically. It would be plain for anyone to see, Herr Ebner had continued, that this was a match being made for love- if only they would be bothered to look properly.

Next to arrive had been Baron and Baroness Ebberfeld. Perhaps not strictly needed, Georg had suggested rather desperately to Max, envisioning the villa becoming a hotelier service for Salzburg's elite, but the impresario had insisted- the Ebberfelds were great friends of the Ebners after all, and they did, he assured Georg, need _someone_ else for Herr Ebner to talk to. They would all be bored to death otherwise, he had remarked ironically.

Lastly Georg invited his sister, Sophia Von Trapp. His motivation for this was, he admitted to Maria rather sheepishly, born entirely from the knowledge that Sophia was an old romantic- eccentric, forth-right, and determined that societal conventions existed only to be broken. She would be a good adversary for Baroness Ebberfeld, he had decided, who had made her opinion on the match _very _clear the moment she had arrived.

Against the backdrop of all of this of course, there was still a wedding to be planned, a task which Sophia Von Trapp and Frau Ebner revelled in. Maria, although strictly in charge of the proceedings, seemed rather secondary when these two women would get to talking- never mind that she was to be the bride. He wondered in fact, when he heard them conversing, whether the ceremony would eventually be removed from the day altogether. It was infinitely less important it seemed, than the reception and social occasion which simply _had_ to live up to expectations.

It was a horrible and rather unnerving glimpse into the life he had almost embarked upon with Elsa.

xx

Three weeks after the chaperones had arrived, Georg was cursing their presence with more venom than even he had expected. His life had become a farce, he decided one evening, filled with larger than life characters, all resolutely pursuing their own ends like automatons set loose on the world. If he were not hearing from Frau Ebberfeld – a woman born with blue blood flowing through her veins - that he must reconsider his marriage altogether, it was Sophia Von Trapp cutting her off to tell her that she was 'a heartless old battleaxe'- the latest insult he had heard the two women exchange- and if not them then he was confronted with all manner of unintelligible babble from Frau Ebner- concerns of table settings, napkins and flowers which seemed to have taken on a global importance - or drawn into long, protracted, and often excruciatingly dull conversations with Andreas Ebner and Alfred Ebberfeld. Of all the chaperones, only Max Dettwelier provided truly good company, though the impresario was the most annoyingly zealous of all of Georg's houseguests in ensuring that he could not spend longer than a minute alone with his future bride without being interrupted.

That was the main mission of all the automatons, of course, and however distracted they seemed to be by their own individual concerns, Georg knew not to be fooled by this. He had never, in all his life, known the villa to be overflowing with so many people, all with one purpose in mind.

And they were exceedingly, frustratingly, and infuriatingly good at their task.

He still saw Maria of course. In fact with the children now back at school, they spent almost all day together. But it was most definitely not the same. There were always people around, and even if they were not engaged in the same conversation, their very presence precluded any chance for even the most innocent intimacy. Even walking by the lakeside at night- the fondly remembered activity which they had shared long before they had realised their feelings for each other- had become a more frustrating than enjoyable pastime. Andreas and Marie Ebner would always appear on the path ahead of them, or they would be aware that Max, Baron Ebberfeld, or Sophia Von Trapp were watching from the terrace or one of the balconies.

The privacy which they _were_ allowed had also become rather awkward, for the idea, in those few minutes that they were left alone, that everyone knew exactly what they were doing and would quite possibly be discussing just how long they should be left by themselves to do it, was distinctly off-putting.

They both knew that they would wait until their wedding night before consummating their love – there had been no discussion needed there. Yet now, the less and less time they had truly alone was making the effort more and more difficult. The quick stolen moments that they had together, away from the simpering eyes of the chaperones and without their tacit agreement, were becoming rather dangerous, Georg mused, remembering the last such time, now over a week ago, when they had run into each other in the salon. It had taken less than a second for them to realise that they were suddenly, finally, alone, and less than a second after that, and without a single word being spoken, for them to fall into an embrace, kissing each other with abandon.

In that moment Georg had not been restrained at all- making up for lost time, he had rationalised to himself. And he knew that they would no doubt be interrupted in a matter of minutes when someone realised that both he and his fiancée were missing – yes, someone would suddenly develop an urgent desire to ask him something, request something of Maria, or simply to take a walk through every room of the villa until they were found…. And, sure enough that blissful moment had lasted less than two minutes before he had heard Max clearing his throat from the other side of the doorway and had pulled away from Maria to meet the impresario's amused smile with a look of fury.

Max had just chuckled, finding the whole situation incredibly amusing.

xx

Everything came to a head one evening.

It had been a frustrating day anyway, and not only because of the chaperones. The newspaper had arrived that morning, bearing the distinctly sombre news of Nazi uprisings in Austria's formerly more conservative areas. Much discussion had then followed, and although no one exactly disagreed with Georg's adamant diatribe against the Nazi regime, they did not wholly concur with him either. The tetchiness which Georg had felt during the past few weeks had thus found a wonderful outlet, and he had spent most of the afternoon arguing politics with anyone who dared provide an opinion.

By the time dinner was concluded, an unspoken agreement had been reached that nothing more would be said on the subject, and they retired to the salon to pursue- Georg was sure- one of the same indomitably recurring conversations which he now seemed to find himself engaged in every evening.

He wondered, as he took his usual seat with Baron Ebberfeld, Andreas Ebner, and Max, who would have the pleasure of a monologue on this particular occasion.

Max, it transpired quickly, and his preferred subject was, of course, the world of talent-spotting.

"... and then Sasha Petrie had the nerve to tell him that he wouldn't recognise talent if it came up and hit him in the face!" Max was saying, recounting a conversation between two of his rival impresarios.

"Was he the one who discovered that girl from the Mid-West?" Baron Ebberfeld replied, "Scarlett... what was her name again?"

The more stories Georg heard, the more Max reinforced his opinion that it was not so much talent _exploration_ which the impresario engaged in, but talent _exploitation_.

"Scarlett Brucker," Max quoted proudly, "And not exactly- he found her on a recommendation from me I'll have you know," he chuckled and took another sip from the glass of port he was holding, "It took quite a considerable amount of persuasion to have her come over here from America, and it was no thanks to Sasha Petrie, that's for certain. Superstition or not though, she is making Von Schubert quite a considerable fortune..."

"Which you no doubt have a commission in?"

"Well of course!" Max laughed, "And _he _didn't have to steal her from anyone either!"

Baron Ebberfeld laughed along with him, "Then however did he manage it?" he asked.

"Ah, well let's just say that old Von Schubert had a number of different, uh... _methods_ of persuasion..."

"That old scoundrel!"

They all laughed and Georg belatedly joined them, realising that he had hardly been listening to the conversation at all. He cared little for Sasha Petrie, Baron Von Schubert or any American singing sensation and was becoming increasingly tired of trying to feign interest in all of his houseguests' many pastimes.

His eyes slowly wandered from Max and the other gentlemen as they took up the conversation again, finding their way across the room to Maria. Unlike Max's story, she captured his full attention. Sitting on a chair in the corner of the salon and listening to Marie Ebner, Baroness Ebberfeld, and Sophia Von Trapp's relentless chatter, she wore all the tell-tale signs of being just as disinterested in their guests as he was. He smirked, his mind wandering pleasantly away as he contemplated the far more interesting things they would do when all the meddlesome chaperones had been sent on their way….

xx

Maria had always believed herself to be a fairly well educated woman, but she was beginning to realise that there were some things that she simply knew nothing about. Fashion was one of them.

It was all rather baffling. The idea that she would need 'at least a dozen' summer dresses and 'at least half a dozen ball gowns' was utterly alien to her. Frau Ebner had even given her the name of her own personal couturier and insisted that Maria must come with her for an appointment. Eventually Maria had agreed though only out of desperation when Baroness Ebberfeld had declared that this was indeed the only 'proper' thing to do.

It seemed that the Baroness had now resigned herself to the fact that if Maria was indeed to marry such a staple of aristocratic high-life, it was her duty to do her level best to transform his new wife into someone she- and society- would deem acceptable for the Von Trapp name.

Even Sophia Von Trapp had agreed on this, though she and Baroness Ebberfeld had been most alarmed to discover that there actually _was_ something in the world which they shared the same opinion about.

With this uneasy alliance in place, the three women were now discussing exactly what she would need in her new wardrobe, and Maria had long since become irrelevant to the conversation.

After all, what did _she_ know about the fashion of the upper classes?

It was not long before Maria sensed that someone was watching her, and looked up to see her husband-to-be staring at her from across the room.

The moment their eyes met she knew exactly what he was thinking about.

It was enough to make her blush bright red with embarrassment-

-and of course to occupy her own mind with thoughts of exactly the same nature.

The mindless chatter of the chaperones faded away and suddenly it felt as though they were quite alone in the room.

The moment lasted just a few minutes before abruptly, and inevitably, someone noticed.

"He has the look of the devil about him, that one!" she suddenly felt Sophia Von Trapp's hand on her arm and jumped slightly, turning away from the Captain.

The older woman cackled in delight and Maria grimaced in embarrassment as almost everyone in the room shared a laugh.

"It's quite late," Georg said suddenly, standing up from his chair, "If you will excuse me please."

Max smirked as the Captain rose, exchanging a knowing look with Baroness Ebberfeld as Georg began to walk out of the salon. Maria watched as he strode past her and towards the door.

She wondered if she would be seeing him again before the evening was over.

*_characters from my second story, Revelations._


	5. Chapter 5

_FIVE_

The expected tap on the study door came half an hour later.

"Enter," Georg called, looking up from his papers. Just as he had predicted, Max appeared in the doorway.

Georg motioned for his friend to sit down.

"Checking I'm still here?" he asked sarcastically as Max took the proffered chair, "Brandy?"

"Don't mind if I do," Max said pleasantly, pouring himself a glass from the decanter on the side table, "And you can hardly blame me Georg. Your _exchange_ with our dear Fraulein was enough to... _concern_ me," he smiled as he took a sip of brandy, "It reminded me of a certain roguish young sailor who I believe your wife once claimed to be quite un-reform-able…."

"O-ho, but I think she would have told you that she _had _reformed me!"

"Perhaps," Max smiled again, "But perhaps our little Fraulein has the power to undo all that good work."

Georg sighed in exasperation, "It might surprise you to know that with or without you interrupting us at every possible moment - which you are spectacularly good at by the way-" Max chuckled, "- I will never ask… or _allow_ Maria…. Well, I am not so unreformed that I would wish for _that_!"

Max nodded.

"You will not mind if I maintain my strict vigil though," he went on a second later, ignoring the flash of annoyance that passed across Georg's face, "Whatever you might say Georg," he continued, "I've the seen the way the two of you look at each other- I have never seen such… well-!"

"Max!"

"I'm only concerned that you may find yourself in trouble when the Fraulein starts looking at you the way she did this evening..." Max backtracked slightly.

"There is no question that Maria will marry as a virgin- she wants that just as much as I do!"

Max chuckled again.

"Ah well, sometimes the heart wants what it knows it cannot have…. Or in this case perhaps more of the body than just the heart!" he suddenly quipped, taking a generous mouthful of brandy, "I would caution you not to overwhelm the poor girl, but it seems that she is perfectly able to handle you- in fact perhaps it is _she_ who is overwhelming _you_!"

"Max..." Georg warned again.

The impresario shrugged his shoulders,

"Just be careful Georg," he said.

"I'm always careful."

The impresario rose to his feet and replaced his now empty brandy glass on the table. He nodded to Georg and walked towards the study door before pausing again.

"And in those moments when you _aren't_ being so careful, rest assured that I will be there to remind you!"

"Max I hardly think you are one to preach of being careful…" Georg replied, thinking of the impresario's frivolous attitude to business dealings. To his surprise, a salmon flush suddenly crossed the impresario's cheeks.

"Ah well… no… perhaps not…"

Georg frowned.

"Touched a nerve have I?" he remarked, surprised.

"I think I shall return to the company of Herr Ebner and Baron Ebberfeld," the impresario instead declared, "They have a good game of cards going. I assume that you don't wish to join us?"

Georg shook his head, still intrigued.

"Well goodnight, then."

"Goodnight."

XX

Georg waited another few minutes before setting down his papers and crossing to the window of his study. He was sure that Max's visit meant that Maria and the other ladies had retired for the night- undoubtedly the impresario had been concerned that Maria had instead come to find him for some supposedly illicit rendezvous.

He chuckled as he lifted the window. Yes, Max was cunning, but one did not become a knight of the order of Maria Theresa without possessing certain cunning of their own.

The window opened easily and in a matter of moments Georg was standing in the grounds at the back of the villa. He pushed the window down again, leaving it open just a couple of centimetres so he could be certain to get back in if he needed to.

He reached the front doors quickly enough. Franz had not yet locked them and he paused for a moment, holding the door open a fraction and listening into the hallway to make sure that he was not about to run into anyone. When satisfied that he was not about to be found and forced to explain the whole embarrassing situation, he pushed the door open and lightly stepped inside, smiling to himself as he saw that his suspicions had indeed been well founded- the salon door was open just enough that the occupants would be able to see anyone passing through the hallway. Looking upwards he saw that the upper landings seemed deserted. Quickly and silently he strode up the stairs towards Maria's room.

XX

Maria had almost gone as far as the bottom of the stairs when she had seen that the door to the salon was still open and heard the sound of laughter from inside. She supposed that Max and the other gentlemen were still up, and had returned to her room in disappointment- there was no chance that she would reach the study without being seen, and she did not especially feel like acquiring an escort to say goodnight to the Captain.

Would he expect her to meet him in the grounds, she wondered, perhaps in the gazebo?

Just as she was opening her wardrobe to retrieve her coat she heard a knock on the door. Immediately her heart leapt- it was certain to be him.

"Come in," she called quietly. The door swung open and she prepared herself to see her fiancé standing in the doorway, wearing the familiar half-smile he often did when he saw her. Disappointment crushed her when she saw that it was Baroness Ebberfeld. The older woman wore an irritatingly knowing look as she saw Maria hurriedly pushing her coat back into the armoire.

It became quickly obvious that the Baroness was there only to make sure that Maria had not gone through with her plan after all, and was indeed where she was supposed to be. The older woman did not say this of course, but her excuse for coming to Maria's room after they had all retired- to ensure that Maria had not forgotten her appointment with the couturier for the next day- was woefully transparent. The conversation had been pointless from the very start and soon reached a somewhat awkward silence, after which Baroness Ebberfeld took her leave with a very self-satisfied sounding 'goodnight'.

Another soft tap sounded on the door a minute later and Maria's temper flared. This time she strode quickly to the door, certain that she would find Baroness Ebberfeld back again, or perhaps one of the other ladies, and quite intending to give them a piece of her mind. She threw open the door but the words died on her lips as she saw who was standing there. It was the Captain.

Xx

The door to Maria's room was opened much more violently than Georg had been expecting. He took a step backwards as Maria appeared looking quite furious and as though she was about to begin one of her infamous outbursts. Clearly she had not been expecting to find him on the other side of the door for she abruptly faltered, the redness of her face intensified, and her planned words turned into a slightly strangled sounding "Oh! Captain!"

He did not allow her to say anything else- painfully aware of the proximity of both the Ebners' bed chamber and the children's rooms, he knew that he needed to stop her talking, and chose to do so in the most pleasurable way he could think of. She was in his arms a split second later, his mouth pressed to hers as he kissed her into silence. He pushed her quickly back into the room and fumbling around for the door handle, managed to close the door behind them. He felt her melt in his arms as he wrapped them tightly around her.

"It's _Georg_," he reminded her jokingly as he finally broke the kiss, tilting her chin up with his hand so that she was looking him in the eye. Her face broke into a smile, a smile that he had very much missed seeing over the past weeks.

"I've missed you, _Georg_," she replied softly.

"I've missed you too," he whispered back, drawing her closer towards him and pressing a kiss to her forehead. She sighed contentedly as her arms went around him, holding onto him as though they had been parted for weeks. They stayed in silence for a few minutes, just holding each other, both listening carefully and hardly able to believe it when no one appeared at the door.

"It seems we've finally done it," Maria said quietly.

Georg chuckled, "It does indeed my love," he replied, "And there was I thinking that I was losing my touch, being outsmarted by a high-society toff, an impresario, and a junior officer!" Maria laughed and immediately he felt the anxiety of the past week begin to ease.

"I don't know how I could ever have denied this," he began softly, pulling away from her slowly so that they could look at each other again. She tilted her head slightly, looking at him curiously and silently prompting him to continue, "I don't know how I didn't realise just how much I need you..." He kissed her gently.

"I didn't realise it either," she replied as her fingers began absent-mindedly running along the lapel of his jacket, "I don't think I really realised how I felt until I saw you engaged to the Baroness. I could see her life with you going on before her and realised in that moment how very much I wanted that life to be mine..." she trailed off into silence.

"I'm so sorry, my love," he replied, wondering suddenly what he would have done if she had not come back- would he still be engaged to poor Elsa, he asked himself, or would he have found the courage he was supposedly famous for and gone to claim her back?

Maria seemed to sense the change in his mood and copied his earlier gesture, tilting his head down so that his eyes met hers.

"When the Lord closes a door, somewhere He opens a window," she repeated the words of the Reverend Mother before leaning in towards him and claiming his lips in a kiss.

He kissed her back, trying to show her as well as tell her just how much she meant to him.

And although he had taught her all that she knew about kissing, he considered distractedly a minute later, it seemed that she had now mastered the art extremely well herself. Perhaps a little too well, he decided as she rather tentatively ran her hands into his hair. He groaned softly, pushing himself towards her as he deepened the kiss again. A few seconds later she was backed up against the door, her arms still encircling him as she pulled him against her. He was quite happy to oblige.

"_Georg_..." he heard her whisper softly.

It seemed that Maria _was_, as Max had suggested, quite capable of overwhelming him, and he stepped back reflexively.

Her eyes fluttered opened as she felt him break away, and he felt his resolve waver.

"Maybe, uh," he began, clearing his throat slightly. He was intensely aware of her hand which was now resting under his jacket.

It had been a long time since he had known such feelings, he reminded himself, and so long that he had wanted _her_.

Maria moved suddenly, her lips re-finding his. From that second he was lost.


	6. Chapter 6

_SIX_

Looking back on that moment, Maria always had to admit to herself, though rather shamefully, that perhaps they would have consummated their love, unmarried and on her governess' bed, if it were not for the sudden, violent banging of a door from downstairs which caused them both to freeze, terrified that someone had heard them and was coming to investigate. They lay perfectly still atop the bed, their breathing slowing, listening and desperately hoping that no one would knock on the door. Such guilt was enough to remind them of the sin they were about to commit and brought them both to their senses.

After a few minutes, when silence filled the villa again, Georg turned slowly to sit on the side of bed. He took a deep breath, and was about to break the silence, when Maria suddenly spoke.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. Incredulously Georg spun around to meet her gaze.

"Sorry?!" he echoed, disbelievingly.

"Well you stopped and I..." she faltered, looking concerned, "I let my feelings get the better of me and I didn't realise how difficult it would be to remember not to... well to…" she sounded uncomfortable and seemed suddenly lost for words. Georg felt a fresh wave of affection wash over him.

"My love, you must _never_ be sorry for that," he interrupted her sincerely and leant over to kiss her softly again, "I too find that I have great difficulty... keeping a clear head around you."

They smiled up at each other and he decided that it was safe to move and sit beside her. She contentedly settled into the crook of his arm and leant against him.

They sat quietly for a few minutes until Georg began to feel guilty- perhaps there was something of the scoundrel left in him after all.

And the chaperones were definitely more necessary than he had believed, he was forced to conclude.

"I think we both need to be more careful in the future," Maria abruptly said, turning to face him again, "I mean, only until our wedding night of course."

She blushed adorably, still seeming to find the subject of their honeymoon night somewhat embarrassing to talk about, despite all that had just occurred.

He pulled her closer to him and rested his head lovingly on top of hers.

"I agree," he replied, wondering if he really did as he kissed the side of her neck gently, "I'm sure Max would be laughing if he knew just how quickly my words came back to bite me!"

"Max?"

"Yes, Herr Dettwelier and I had a most irritating conversation about his exceedingly good chaperoning abilities."

Maria laughed, "He does seem to be quite determined when he sets his mind to something," she observed.

"Don't let his 'charming sponge' facade fool you," Georg replied, knowing that Maria had certainly seen through it anyway, "I'm sure there are many now-failed talent acts around the country who could tell you that Max Dettwelier, impresario-extraordinaire, is one of the most determined men in all of Austria when he sets his mind to something, and probably one of the most ruthless too," he paused, "At least in this instance he has _our _best interests in mind, not just his own!"

"He told me once that he would always have your best interests at heart," Maria replied.

Georg nodded slowly, "I do believe that," he said, "At least with the most important things. The children singing in the festival, though- there's one idea I think he may never give up on!" They both laughed before Georg's tone became more serious again, "He recognised my feelings for you before I ever acknowledged them, and I think he realised that Elsa and I were not suited to a life together long before I did. He would have been perfectly entitled to return to Vienna when she left," he paused, "And perhaps it would have been better if he had..." he joked, "At least then there would be one fewer chaperone in this house!"

"I'm sure that if Max was not around then Baroness Ebberfeld would take up his role with equal zeal," Maria replied dryly.

"Ah, is that who you thought was at the door when you tore it from its hinges earlier?" Georg teased.

"Her, or another one of the ladies coming to check that I was still here," Maria sounded frustrated. Georg slowly ran his fingers down her arm in a comforting gesture, "All I wanted was to spend a few moments alone with you, just to talk to you really..."

"Uh, just to talk?" his tone was suddenly filled with mirth.

She laughed again. "Perhaps they were right in stopping us after all," she observed.

"It's not long now, my love," he replied, "And then we will have six weeks in Paris all to ourselves- where, I can assure you, any interruptions will be dealt with most severely- no exceptions!"

Maria laughed at his playful tone and squeezed his hand, "It sounds wonderful," she replied.

Their conversation was suddenly halted by the sound of voices from down the corridor. Georg recognised Max, and realised that he and the others must finally be retiring to bed. The voices slowly quietened as they headed towards another wing of the house, and he heard Maria yawn. She shifted comfortably in his arms and he reached down to brush a lock of her hair from her forehead.

"I had better retire to bed, I think," he said, as tempting as it was to simply stay with her and fall asleep together. She nodded up at him.

"Sweet dreams," he said and kissed her lightly and chastely on the lips, remembering their agreement.

"Thank you," she replied softly as he made his way over to the end of the bed to retrieve his jacket.

"What for?" he asked, as he re-fastened his middle two shirt buttons and began searching around for the tie.

"Just for being you," she smiled at him, "I'd missed you."

He smiled back. "Um, I think..." he trailed off with a teasing smile as he pointed towards Maria. She blushed slightly again as she followed his direction to see his tie poking out from the pillow which she rested against.

He caught her hand as she passed it across to him and kissed it softly.

"Goodnight, Maria," he said softly, folding the tie into his pocket as he moved reluctantly towards the door.

"Goodnight, Georg."

xxx

It was getting late in the evening now, and night had almost fallen. Maria stood in front of the gates to the lake, reflecting that the next time she would stand there she would be a married woman. The very next morning she would become Baroness Von Trapp, and the villa she had lived in for the few summer months would become her home. It was an exciting, though rather nerve-wracking thought.

She prayed that the wedding the next day would go as planned. Many guests had arrived already- scores of Viennese aristocracy and retired naval officers whom she had never met before but who apparently would have taken great personal offence if they were not invited. Several hotels in Salzburg were fully occupied with the well-wishers and there were more due to arrive the following morning. If the planning had achieved nothing else, Maria reflected, it had certainly shown her just how important and well known her husband-to-be was in Austrian society. It was all too easy to forget sometimes, in the sanctuary of the villa, that Georg was in fact the _both_ a baron and a knight.

The villa was mercifully, finally quiet. The chaperones, having at last fulfilled their function, had departed a few hours earlier to join in with the socialising in town, and Maria had not been able to help a sigh of relief at their departure. She had become thoroughly sick of the mindless chatter which had filled the house for weeks, and had in fact once asked Georg, half-seriously, if she might revert back to the role of governess until the day of the wedding. At least when her sole responsibility had been the children she had not been required to socialise with guests every morning and evening. She was pleased too that her husband-to-be seemed to enjoy this convention just as little as she did. And to think, he had once intended to marry Baroness Schräder, the most vociferous socialiser there was!

By the time the chaperones left, Maria had been desperate for a quiet moment to collect her thoughts. The day had been spent frantically making last minute arrangements- ensuring that her wedding dress was prepared for her at the abbey, that the everyone's outfits had arrived and fit properly, and of course trying to calm the ever-more-excited rabble of Von Trapp children. Georg had offered to see to putting the children to bed and so after pressing a goodbye kiss to each of their foreheads, she had fled out onto the terrace. She would not see the children until the ceremony the next day- it had been agreed that she would spend the night before her wedding at Nonnberg abbey.

They were to marry in the abbey too, that much had hardly needed any discussion. The Reverend Mother had agreed as soon as Maria had visited with the request.

"You will belong to each other then, my child," the nun had advised her, smiling in the knowing way she often did, "And God will bless your love a thousand times."

Maria smiled and let out another soft sigh. That really was all that mattered, she reminded herself - how she felt about Georg and how he felt about her.

As though he had read her thoughts, Maria suddenly felt a pair of arms sneak around her waist from behind. Georg had always had an uncanny knack of appearing just when she was thinking about him.

"I thought I just might find you here..."

Immediately Maria felt a smile spreading across her face and her mood lightened- yes, this was what was important. Even with all the titles, fame and his position in the aristocracy, Georg Von Trapp was just a man, she reminded herself as she leaned back into his embrace. A man who loved her.

"Was there something you wanted?" she asked him in return, following the pattern of that earlier conversation.

"Yes," he whispered in reply, his breath tickling her ear, "To take a walk with my beautiful fiancée, if she will agree..."

Maria frowned slightly, "As lovely as that sounds, Georg, oughtn't we to be leaving for the abbey?"

"Humour me," he replied, "Just for a few minutes. After all, it's the last chance we'll have to walk in these grounds for a while..."

She knew what he meant. There would always be something magical about that walk by the lakeside, a reminder of all of those precious evenings before they had had any idea that they would someday fall in love, and of course of that first wonderful evening when they had at last come to realise the true extent of their feelings for each other.

She took his hand, and he led her slowly in the direction of the gazebo.

They did not say anything to each other for a while, Maria still troubled about the upcoming ceremony. At last Georg broke the silence.

"Is it wrong that I wish this wedding were all already over, my dear?" he asked, half-seriously.

She laughed, "Not at all, I don't think," she answered, "I have never known so much planning be needed for just one day..."

He laughed a little at that and drew her into his embrace.

"I know that marrying you will be one of the happiest days of my life," he whispered into her hair, "But sometimes I wish we could just have eloped..."

"How very romantic of you," she replied, laughing too.

"Whimsical," he corrected, kissing her.

"I feel as though we are already married, really," she said when the kiss had ended, "And that this wedding is just for the benefit of... _society_."

"Spoken with a delicious amount of venom!" Georg chuckled and kissed her again.

"But don't think of it like that," he continued, "All that matters is that when you start walking down the aisle, I will be waiting for you at the other end."

"I know," she replied, moving closer into his embrace, "And it will be the happiest moment of my life, seeing you there."

They smiled at each other.

"But Georg..." she began, "If the wedding doesn't live up to... I mean if in society..."

"Damn the lot of them!" he exclaimed vehemently, "And it will do. You could not have spent more time planning, my dear. I seem to have hardly seen you!"

"But..."

"Enough!" he declared and cut off her words with another kiss. The second they parted however, she began again.

"But really I..."

"I can see I am going to have to try harder then..." he teased her, and reclaimed her lips with his. He kissed her deeply and when they parted again, a while later, Maria had completely forgotten what she had been saying.

"That is a very dangerous power you have, my dear Captain!" she teased him back. He laughed.

"Now I want to hear no more worries about the ceremony," he cautioned her sternly, "I would have it anywhere and under any circumstances as long as I am marrying _you_... and that is _all_ that matters to me."

"Yes Captain!" She responded to his commanding tone by straightening into a salute and in-spite of himself he laughed again.

Xx

Max Dettwelier had quite lost track of exactly which hotel bar he was now in. The Bristol perhaps, he considered, leaning across the table to try and catch a glimpse of the monogrammed coasters. It could equally well have been the Grand or the Hotel London, though. But not the Sacher. He knew that one well.

The impresario sighed. His tour of all of Salzburg's finest hotels, booked out with guests of the Von Trapp wedding, had left him quite exhausted and had ultimately proved fruitless. Whichever hotel he was in now, he was quite sure that this was the last one left.

She must not have come after all then, he decided. And, he supposed as he took a sip of his drink, he could hardly blame her. He had been surprised when she had accepted Georg's invitation in the first place, though after a moment of reflection had decided that it suited her character rather well. Elsa Schräder was not one to hide her face, no matter what anyone might say, and was certainly not likely to miss out on the foremost social event of the season.

Despite this, it seemed now that all the gossip and rumouring had got to her after all. Or perhaps she actually had had stronger feelings for Georg than she had admitted to him. It would be rather difficult to watch a man she still loved marry another woman, especially after she had come so close to marrying him herself.

He had hoped that she would have told him if her plans had changed however. At least then he would not have felt it necessary to tour half a dozen bars and ballrooms looking for her.

The thought had hardly crossed his mind when suddenly the hubbub of noise in the bar died down to almost nothing.

Baroness Elsa Schräder, in a rather under-stated gown for her, had appeared in the doorway, quite alone, though somehow still managing a smile.

Max felt a most peculiar sense of happiness settle over him as he watched her nod her acknowledgment towards the other patrons of the bar who returned hurriedly to their conversations, suddenly embarrassed.

He did admire her. Not many women in the world could cope with such adversity in the manner Elsa Schräder did.

He watched carefully as she scanned her gaze around the room, feeling suddenly and unexpectedly shy. He had not seen her since they had kissed goodbye in the foyer of her Viennese mansion, now many weeks ago, and despite lifting the phone several times to call her, he never seemed to have worked out quite what the purpose of the call would be.

Would she be pleased to see him?

Indifferent?

Horrified?

Mercifully she did not keep him wondering too long, for her gaze fell on him almost immediately. Her face broke out into a genuine smile and he felt himself smiling back at her.

God she looked stunning.

"Max!" she kissed him on the cheek as she reached his table, "I had expected that you would be at the Bristol!"

"Isn't this...?" he cut himself off before finishing his sentence, not wanting to confess to Elsa that he had in fact visited many places that night.

"Nothing like making an entrance is there?" she remarked ironically as she sat down opposite him.

He chuckled, "Well people often notice when a beautiful woman enters the room, my darling..."

She smiled back at him as she took a proffered drink from a passing waiter.

"Thank you, Max."

He nodded his acknowledgement, but bit his tongue on what he wanted to say next. It was one of the few times in his life when he was not sure that he could tell Elsa exactly what he was thinking.

So much for their brief… _entanglement_ in Vienna not affecting their friendship, he mused darkly as he instead took another sip of his drink. Would she want to talk about it, he wondered. They had agreed at the time, though in a rather hurried, frenzied way, and more out of sense of obligation than for anything else, that they would not speak of what had taken place ever again.

He had understood and accepted it at the time, and had foolishly believed that the matter would rest at that.

It had not of course.

"And you look very dapper yourself tonight," she went on as the silence between them became rather awkward, "Is that a new suit?"

"Ah yes!" he grabbed onto the conversation with considerable relief, "Yes- I must tell you my dear that I have come into a small fortune!"

"Oh?"

"Scarlett Brucker finally came through! An overnight sensation in Paris, and only two days after Von Schubert had entirely given up on her and signed over her rights to me!"

"Congratulations!" she tilted her own drink towards him, "Perhaps we ought to be drinking champagne instead."

"My treat," he replied instantly. The waiter was called back over.

"I must confess that it's a rather nice feeling," Max said as young man disappeared to retrieve a magnum of the hotel's finest champagne, "I think I could quite get used to being a man of independent means!"

He saw something flick across Elsa's face at that and immediately his mood soured again.

No matter how much money Scarlett Brucker might make him, he suspected that it would never be enough to live up to Elsa's imaginings.

For the first time in his life he wished that he had been born to noble parents, that he had pursued his career in the Navy more zealously- even if he could only have acquired the rank of Commander it would have been better than a lowly Lieutenant, decommissioned before the war had even started- or if just one of his talent acts could have worked out sooner. He had had such high hopes for so many of his artists. If just one of them could have rewarded him adequately for the fame he had helped them to achieve... Well, if all of that, then he might now have some claim on Baroness Elsa Schräder.

Middle-age was a rather late time to start wishing for such things.

"You will quite outgrow us then, Max," she replied.

"Never, my dear," he answered seriously, and then, as he saw a concerned expression return to her face, hastily added the quip, "You know I am never one to turn down a free drink!"

Mercifully she laughed.

"Oh I have missed you, my dear Max."

"So have I," he leant towards her, "Very much."

Another uncomfortable, horrible silence fell upon them again.

Too much had been left unsaid after Vienna. He should have telephoned her.

"So tell me, how has life been as Georg's chaperone?" she changed the subject again, "I trust you have had to be a little more zealous this time?"

"Oh quite fine," he answered briskly, suddenly thoroughly bored and more than a little irritated to be talking about Georg Von Trapp yet again.

"I trust you were more successful on this occasion?" Elsa asked, a rather mischievous smile spreading over her face, "After all, you failed in your duties quite _spectacularly_ with us..."

For a moment he didn't understand quite what she meant. He was sure that she had not been intimate with Georg... had she?

She replied to his frown with a rather coy look and raised an eyebrow just a fraction.

Suddenly he knew quite well what she meant, and for only the second time in his life, felt himself blush.

"Ha! Well..." he coughed uncomfortably, not at all sure what would be best to say now. He could flirt to a certain degree- after all he had inevitably learnt something from watching Christoph Steiner* and Georg Von Trapp work their magic on Europe's finest debutantes over the years- but apparently not when it mattered.

"Quite spectacularly indeed, my dear," she winked at him.

He swallowed hard, wanting to break her gaze before she saw too much in his expression.

"Would you like to dance, Max?"

"Why yes of course- certainly!"

He rose to his feet rather gingerly and gestured for her to go ahead just as she did the same to him. To his relief, Elsa just laughed and, seizing his hand firmly in hers, propelled him onto the small dance floor in the corner of the room.

Would she make any advances again, he wondered as he moved into hold.

But surely that would be too much to ask, he decided as he leant in closer to her, smelling her exquisite perfume. She was quite determinedly out of his league- in fact he still could not believe that they had ever shared such an experience at all.

And 'quite spectacularly indeed'... he mused. Not bad for one of Austria's most un-legendary lovers.

And at least she did not seem to think that he had taken advantage of her, a worry which had been plaguing him ever since he had returned to Salzburg.

But if it meant nothing more to her... then could he really agree?

She shifted closer towards him and he inwardly groaned.

God, yes he would agree again- he would agree in an instant.

"My dear..." he began, "About that... When we..." he faltered, "What we... the last time I saw you I mean..."

He trailed off embarrassed.

"Yes?" she questioned, staring up at him with enchanting dark eyes.

Perhaps she was not letting him down gently after all.

The hope had hardly crossed his mind when he suddenly felt a hand on his back and spun around to see a tall, blonde, uniformed army officer standing behind him.

"Admiral Von Hartmann," he introduced himself.

"A pleasure..." Max replied, though it most certainly was not.

"Fifth division."

"Congratulations," the word was out of his mouth before he could help it, "Max Dettwelier," he continued swiftly to cover any offence, "Former Lieutenant."

"Tremendously impressive."

Max's eyebrows rose, and despite deserving the retort, he was momentarily stunned into silence.

"Baroness Elsa Schräder, I presume," Hartmann's attention had now moved to Elsa where, Max was sure, he had always intended it.

Elsa inclined her head, "A pleasure to meet you, Admiral."

"Lukas, please…" he paused, "I wonder if I might request the next dance from you?"

He paused again, "If your partner doesn't mind of course..."

The music had already finished anyway.

"Of course not," Max managed a strained smile. He patted Elsa's hand as he released it, "Admiral."

He inclined his head again before moving smartly away from the dance floor and back towards the table as the next song began.

He groaned- it was a slow waltz.

Things were just getting better and better.

Another 'Von'- this one an Admiral!

And just as handsome, suave and debonair as the previous one had been.

"Bloody marvellous," he muttered into his drink. The champagne tasted rather sour now as he watched the couple sweep their way across the dance floor.

Suddenly he could understand just what Georg Von Trapp had been feeling during the summer. He had lost count of the number of times he had watched, bewildered, as Georg refused to act on his feelings for Maria, even when they had become blatantly, painfully obvious. He had often wondered, in the privacy of his own thoughts of course, why on earth Georg did not just sweep the governess off her feet and carry them away to their happily-ever-after.

He understood that rather better now, he decided.

'_I have half a mind to say you love her...'_ The words he had once put to Georg echoed back to him and he clenched the champagne glass harder.


	7. Chapter 7

_This is just a short chapter and is entirely Max/Elsa - if you aren't a fan of this pairing then you can miss it out without spoiling the rest of the story! Thanks so much to everyone who is reading and especially for the reviews!_

_SEVEN_

At first glance he seemed to embody everything she was looking for in a man- tall, blonde-haired, gorgeous green eyes, and quite exquisitely handsome. And, if the stories he was busy muttering into her ear were true, it sounded as though his family owned half of Germany as well.

Rich and handsome, with a military title, and the prestigious 'Von' attached to his name, Lukas Von Hartmann did indeed seem a most exciting and practically perfect find. Why then, Elsa Schräder wondered, could she not seem to take her eyes from the man who periodically appeared in her vision over the Admiral's shoulder?

He was certainly not the most handsome man in the room, nor the most charming, and most decidedly not the richest.

Though he had acquired fortune enough to live under independent means, Elsa mused, pursing her lips again.

"I must say, you dance most exquisitely, Baroness..."

Her dance partner, quite forgotten again, brought her attention swiftly back to him.

"Why thank you," she replied automatically, "It can be a great pleasure with the right partner."

She leant back slightly to meet Von Hartmann's handsome gaze and scrutinised him carefully. He straightened up under her glance, as though preening himself for inspection.

He _was_ handsome.

Rich.

And he had a title.

But for the first time in her life, Elsa Schräder could see nothing in him that she wanted.

The realisation came as an incredible, liberating relief.

Perhaps she was getting old, she wondered as she settled back into hold to finish the dance. Her eyes found Max again as they twirled back around the corner. She caught his eye, seeing that he was watching them, and saw him salute her carefully with his champagne glass before they turned onto the opposite diagonal.

What would he have said if they had not been interrupted?

And more to the point, what would she have said in reply?

Would she have confessed that she really _had_ been missing him terribly? That she had, on many occasions, lifted the telephone to call him, or begun composing a telegram to invite him back to Vienna? Would she admit that he was the first man who had _ever_ rendered her into a state of such nervousness?

Not even Georg Von Trapp had provided her mind with such distraction as Max Dettwelier had done over the past month.

She supposed that Georg was to blame. Watching him falling in love with Maria in front of her very eyes had obviously affected her more than she had realised. And certainly the whole incident changed the way she viewed society. For she had not, as many rumours proclaimed, announced the Captain's engagement at all. She had confided in a few friends- perhaps ex-friends now- who she had been sure she could trust.

Her trust, it transpired, had been misplaced. The day after she had told them of the happenings in Aigen, an article on the very matter had appeared in the society pages.

She shuddered as she remembered the lies that that article had purported.

However angry she was with Georg, and however reprehensible his treatment of her had been, she did not wish him ill. And she could hardly blame him for wanting more in his life than they could have given to each other- dear Max Dettwelier had finally helped her to see that.

No one would listen to the truth of the matter though, and the gossip which had enflamed the ballrooms and salons of Vienna continued unabated. It was scandal which Elsa might once have thrived on, only now she wondered if she was not perhaps getting rather tired of it.

And dear Max Dettwelier, the man who had been standing right beside her through it all... the only man who knew exactly what had occurred that summer in Aigen...

Whilst Elsa Schräder regretted nothing in her life, she was beginning to wonder whether she would be happy if the same sort of life were to carry on forever.

The dance came to an end before she had finished her thoughts.

Hartmann bowed smartly as he stepped out of hold and she dropped into a curtsey.

"May I buy you a drink?" he asked, already stretching his arm across the dance floor to call a waiter over.

Another Georg Von Trapp, she inwardly chuckled, quite confident that no woman would prove immune to his charms.

She guessed that the Captain had learnt a lot that summer too.

"Thank you very much Admiral," she settled for, "But I'm afraid I am in the middle of a fine magnum of champagne with a dear old friend."

She patted his arm lightly as she turned to walk away.

"Then perhaps the next dance?"

She clasped her hand to her chest, "Oh I am quite exhausted, Admiral!" she exclaimed with a smile, "I'm afraid your dancing has rather overwhelmed me."

He frowned slightly.

"If you will excuse me?" she made to leave again but he held a hand out to stop her.

"On one condition," he winked at her, "You must promise to save me the last dance... You cannot expect me to dance only once with the most beautiful woman in the room..."

Elsa sucked in her cheeks slightly.

"Admiral, by the last dance, I hope to be a spoken for woman."

She did not wait to see his expression but swept decisively away in the direction of Max Dettwelier. The impresario had been watching, of course, but mercifully was standing well out of earshot.

She reached him quickly and took the champagne glass he held out to her.

"What on earth did he say to you?!" the impresario looked both amused and rather baffled.

"Nothing nearly so interesting as what I want to hear from you," she tried to answer coyly, but the waver in her voice gave her away.

His eyes widened noticeably and once again she felt an unfamiliar pang of nervousness.

"Might we go somewhere to talk, my dear?"

xx

By the last dance of the evening, Elsa Schräder was indeed a spoken for woman, and she, her 'dear old friend', and the magnum of champagne were nowhere to be found.

It had not been the most romantic of conversations, Max Dettwelier mused the following morning as he donned his tuxedo and tails for the Von Trapp wedding. With the hotel full to bursting with aristocratic elite- Barons and Baronesses, Captains, Admirals, Commanders, and Lieutenants- it had been difficult to find anywhere to be alone.

Eventually, half an hour after leaving the bar- the most exquisitely irritating half an hour of his life- they had finally found themselves alone in a cloakroom, the one place in the whole hotel where they were at last granted some privacy.

Never before had he or Elsa envisioned having such a conversation. Perhaps it was therefore quite fitting, he had considered at the time, that such an unlikely conversation should have taken place in an equally unlikely location.

They had been interrupted eventually of course, though thankfully when everything which needed to be said had been.

Indeed, Max now had far more sympathy for Georg Von Trapp. Being interrupted in the middle of such an embrace by a blushing bell-boy had been highly frustrating.

He smiled again.

"I don't think I can ever remember you looking so happy, my dear."

Elsa Schräder's rather ironic comment caused him to spin around from the armoire and back towards the bed.

She looked even more beautiful in the morning, without a scrap of make-up on, than he had ever seen her.

He chuckled.

"Just as long as no one asks me why yet..." he trailed off with a wink as he sat down on the edge of the mattress.

They had agreed the previous night that they would wait a few days before announcing their official courtship. A chaperone would then become necessary, and a more tiresome thing could not be thought of by either of them.

"Why your fortune of course!" she exclaimed, leaning back on the pillows.

He laughed, "To be honest, my darling, I had quite forgotten all about that!"

He leant over and kissed her forehead, "But you are quite right as usual- that will do nicely," he rubbed his hands together as he stood up, "Though I best make sure that none of the debt-collectors find out that I have suddenly come into a pretty little lot!"

He saw the same change come over her expression as had the previous evening and frowned.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Ah, well, you do not need my money so desperately now..." her tone was casual, would-be light-hearted but he saw straight through it.

With the biggest smile he had ever felt on his face he leant over and kissed her again.

"My dear, I never loved you for your money."


	8. Chapter 8

_EIGHT_

The ballroom at the Hotel Sacher was the largest and grandest that Maria had ever seen. Filled with dozens of circular tables surrounding a large band stand bedecked with white and yellow roses, there was still room for an ample dance floor and two long tables packed with exotic delicacies, the likes of which the new Baroness Von Trapp had never before seen. Festoons of flowers draped their way in streamers across the ceiling, whilst exquisite centre pieces, individually crafted for each of the small tables, sat aside acres of polished crystal, sparkling glasses and glittering cutlery.

The ladies and gentlemen filling the room could not have looked more at ease. Decked out in the most exquisite costumes, officers adorned with shimmering military decorations, their wives with sparkling diamond tiaras, they represented the deliciously extravagant culture of Austrian high society at its very best. Even those who could not usually enjoy such decadence delighted in pretending at it for the evening. All of the jewellery shops in Salzburg and Vienna had been emptied, their contents now garnishing the necks of the ladies in residence.

Georg let out a soft groan, quiet enough to ensure that only his new wife would hear, as the ballroom doors were thrown open.

"Baron and Baroness Von Trapp!"

The announcement put a temporary stop to the festivities as everyone spun around to applaud as the couple entered the room.

Georg took a bow as Maria smiled around the crowd, suddenly overwhelmed by the sea of unfamiliar faces. Most of them smiled back at her, though she was sure that they were all scrutinising her, still curious about the mysterious governess who had somehow captured one of Vienna's most eligible bachelors.

She was sure that such scrutiny would continue all evening.

"Thank you," Georg gestured his hand around, "Please, enjoy!"

There was another round of applause and gradually people began to turn back to their conversations.

Georg squeezed Maria's hand.

"Stay with me, will you?" she whispered to him quietly, "At least, at first..."

He squeezed her hand harder, "My darling, I do not intend to let you out of my sight for a _very_ long time."

They shared a smile, though broke each other's gaze hurriedly. It had been difficult enough to arrive looking presentable after what had taken place both in the vestry and then in the carriage on the way to the reception.

"I think we should try to extricate ourselves from the celebrations earlier, rather than later, don't you think my dear?" Georg had asked her as they had drawn up to the Sacher, still attempting to re-straighten their ruffled hair.

"For once I am in full agreement with you, Captain!" she had replied, leaning back towards him for another kiss.

"Because after all... Fraulein," he had managed whilst somehow still kissing her just as fervently as he had ever done, "Did I or did I not tell you that _bedtime_ is to be _strictly_ observed in this house?"

His comment had not made it any easier for them to compose themselves, and indeed Maria marvelled at how her husband could so easily manage to turn old, innocent conversations on their head to give them new- and distinctly more interesting_-_ meanings.

"Father!"

The shout jolted them both out of their pleasant musings and Maria's smile turned into a beam as she sank down to her knees to embrace the children.

A relieved looking Max Dettwelier followed behind.

"I have to say Georg, I am beginning to re-think my offer to babysit!"

Georg laughed, clapping the impresario on the back.

"Ah, school begins again in a week my dear Max!"

The impresario shook his head, though he continued to smile.

"And they have promised to be nicer to you than to their previous governesses!"

"Oh you had better be, my dears!"

"Of course, Uncle Max!"

"Unless that will bring Fraulein Maria and Father home faster..." Kurt suggested mischievously.

Georg laughed, clipping his son good-naturedly on his arm.

"I'm afraid that will only lead to a lot of skipped meals!" he declared.

There was not a single force on earth which would make him cut short his honeymoon, he added privately, once again giving his wife an appraising glance.

She was absolutely stunning.

"My congratulations to you, Captain!" Baroness Hermann suddenly swooped into the group, her husband on her arm.

Georg inwardly sighed as he spun away from Maria again.

The socialising had begun.

xx

"Well I think it seems to be going rather well, don't you?" Max asked.

Elsa smirked at him.

"Yes, the celebration does seem to be going marvellously..." she trailed off, inclining her head in the direction of the ballroom. They were outside in the grounds, having slipped away to take a walk together.

"That is not _exactly_ what I meant, my dear..."

"Then whatever _did_ you mean?"

He chuckled.

"I don't think anyone has noticed us missing yet," he answered, "And even if they did, I'm sure they suspect nothing...Though I have barely left your side since we arrived..."

He tugged his arm tightly around her to illustrate his point.

"Oh well I can hardly blame you for that, Max," she teased, though he could see that she was secretly touched.

"But I'm afraid if we go back _quite_ like this, people may start to talk..."

The impresario sighed and returned his arm to his side as they came around the hotel. She watched as he looked around fondly and could not suppress a giggle as light fell across his face.

He frowned at her. She answered his unspoken question by lifting her hand to his mouth and brushing a shade of deep red colour from his lips.

"That might give us away..." she teased.

He caught her hand as she lowered it.

"I wouldn't do that _quite_ yet, my dear..."

He was delighted to see the faintest tinge of a blush come to her cheeks as he leant forwards and kissed her softly again.

"How about one more turn about the grounds?" he muttered in her ear, "Then we shall tell everyone that you have been in the powder room..." he went on, "And I am quite sure that no one will notice that I have ever been out of the room..."

"My my, you are remarkably devious sometimes!"

Max winked, "I remember you once said that deviousness can be a very attractive quality in a man..."

"Very..." she whispered back, kissing him again.

The kiss ended far too soon for Max's liking.

"When do you think we may make our excuses to leave, my dear?" he asked, his tone a little more plaintive than he had intended.

She laughed softly, "Why Max, this is the most important social event of the season..."

"And ordinarily, my darling, I would revel in it. But on this particular occasion, when I cannot have you on my arm and when I must watch you dance with every other man in the room-"

His voice rose slightly in irritation. It had been a most frustrating evening in that respect.

"Ah but however many men I may dance with, my dear, you are the only one who-"

Whatever Max might have been, he was not destined to find out at that moment, for it appeared that he had Elsa had not been the only couple seeking a moment of privacy in the grounds. Indeed, they rounded the corner to see the now Baron and Baroness Von Trapp, half hidden in the shadows of a hedgerow, wrapped firmly in an embrace.

Max could not help the laugh which suddenly rose in his chest.

Georg may have seemed thoroughly lost in the mysteries of his new wife, but he was not so delirious that he failed to hear the impresario's sudden exclamation.

"Max?!" he snapped in disbelief, whirling around in their direction, Maria now blushing crimson in the half-light of a hanging lamp.

"Alas, who else?!" the impresario shrugged, taking half a step away from Elsa and swiping quickly at his lips with the back of his hand, "Oh don't worry, I assure you that this shall be the very last time I shall interrupt you..." he added hastily at the murderous, though rather embarrassed look that settled on the Captain's face.

He flicked his eyes towards Elsa, relieved to see that she looked more amused than anything else.

"Yes... well we were just about to uh-" Georg began.

"Might I suggest that you save that for a... um... _different_ location," Max interjected with a quip.

He laughed again as Maria's blush intensified.

"About to return inside." Georg tried to make his tone frosty, but did not quite succeed. Max was sure that he saw his lips beginning to twitch into a smile.

"What a capital idea!" Max replied, "Excuse us..." he gave Georg a jaunty salute, and with another chuckle, offered his arm formally to Elsa, hoping fervently that there was no evidence that he and the Baroness had in fact been engaged in much the same activity only moments before.

They had hardly rounded the corner before Elsa laughed herself.

"Now _there_ is Georg Von Trapp," she declared, "Agathe's dear Georg!"

"The one you wish you had found?" He asked instantly, still fearing her answer.

"I did wish that, once," she considered for a moment, "But I have to say, Max, I am rather delighted at the way things have turned out."

She kissed him gently on the cheek.

"Me too, my dear."

Max smiled and stepped an appropriate distance away from her as they reached the doorway. He could not, however, stop himself from grazing his hand gently onto her lower back to guide her through first.

She flashed him a conspirator's smile even as Baroness Neumarken swept suddenly towards her.

Max was content to let her go and surprisingly happy when she was rapidly foisted into the arms of another man. After all, it was a new and quite wonderful feeling to know that he had the heart of the most beautiful and desirable woman in the room.

He was still musing on this and other pleasant memories when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It appeared that the Baron and Baroness Von Trapp had returned from their tryst in the grounds.

"Did anyone miss us?" Georg asked dryly.

Max laughed heartily, turning to regard his friend.

"Oh I would think not," he replied, "After all, yours is now a made match. Old news. Even at your wedding reception..."

Georg shook his head incredulously.

"And there is another match being made, do you think?" he gestured towards Elsa and her dance partner.

Max shrugged enigmatically, hiding his smirk in his next comment, "So just where is your blushing bride?"

"Freshening up," Georg answered with a smirk of his own, "I think we may begin our goodbyes."

"Well in that case, my congratulations again to you both." They shook hands, Georg thanking Max once more for his offer to spend the next week and subsequent weekends in Salzburg to assist Frau Schmidt with the children.

It was a task which Max was sure could have a silver lining, namely the supposedly forgotten Salzburg folk festival.

"Ladies and gentlemen..." the call came about twenty minutes later, "The Baron and Baroness Von Trapp wish to make their goodbyes..."

The crowd was obligingly shepherded into the reception area to see Maria and Georg standing arm in arm on the top step of the staircase.

Georg made a short speech, thanking everyone for celebrating the day with them, before another round of applause, and the customary throwing of the bridal bouquet.

Much laughter ensued as Herr Max Dettwelier, confirmed bachelor, found the bouquet landing firmly in his arms.

"Congratulations, Max!" Georg declared as the couple came down the stairs, the front door now held open by their chauffer.

The two men shook hands again before, in a twirl of confetti and to yet more applause, the Von Trapps were gone.

No one but Elsa Schräder caught Max's glance in her direction.

xx

"I am afraid that I must beg my leave from you, my dears," Elsa declared half an hour after the Von Trapps had made their departure.

Her announcement came as rather a surprise to the coterie of friends who surrounded her. After all, the reception party was still in full swing. There were still men to dance with, gossip to be exchanged, and champagne to be drunk.

And it did not seem to any of them that the Baroness was not enjoying herself. Indeed, Elsa had been positively glowing for the entire evening. Anyone keen to see a scandal play out between Baroness Schräder and her former lover, or indeed, the woman who had 'foisted her out, don't you know?', had been sadly disappointed. Whatever bad feeling there had once been between Georg and Elsa, it was clear that all was now firmly in the past- the waltz that they had shared earlier in the evening, though rather tentative, spoke volumes of the mutual respect they had for each other. It appeared that all had been forgiven, or at least smoothed over.

Disappointingly uninteresting, Elsa had heard several ladies muttering.

If only they knew, she had mused with a laugh. Baroness Elsa Schräder and Herr Maximilian Dettwelier... such news would certainly get people talking again.

She was quite looking forward to dropping that one on them.

"My dear Elsa!" Fraulein Whitehead exclaimed, "You cannot possibly leave yet! Why Lieutenant Walter has been asking to take a dance with you all evening!"

Elsa smiled, "I'm afraid that will be quite impossible, for I have the most _terrible_ headache," she risked a glance towards Max, "One of my beastly migraines raising its ugly head again..."

There was a round of tittering and general words of sympathy as she rose to her feet.

"And it is the most exquisite party too..." she trailed off sadly before wobbling slightly on her feet for the benefit of Max Dettwelier who of course caught her arm nicely from behind.

"Do allow me to escort you to your hotel, won't you my dear?" he asked. They exchanged another amused glance.

"Oh I couldn't possibly ask you to leave the party so early," she patted his arm carefully, "I shall be quite alright-"

"Nonsense!" Max exclaimed, "I absolutely insist."

Perhaps he had placed his hand a little too low on her back, or perhaps she leant a just a bit too close to him, for they had only made it half way across the room before Herr Jahnke, another acquaintance of Elsa's, came hurrying across to intercept them.

"Do allow me to escort you as well..." he began to pull on his jacket.

"Oh that is tremendously kind of you, Herr Jahnke," Elsa replied smoothly, "But there really is no need for that at all."

"It will be my pleasure."

"You truly are a gentlemen, but I simply cannot allow you to leave your poor fiancée so unforgivably alone..."

Elsa gestured towards his partner who, mercifully, was at that moment standing quite by herself at the side of the room.

Jahnke hesitated.

"Believe me I am quite capable of escorting Baroness Schräder safely back to her hotel," Max interjected slickly.

Jahnke raised his eyebrows slightly, "You will be alright?" he asked Elsa quietly, "Un-chaperoned?"

"Good God, man! I _am_ her chaperone!" Max exclaimed as though horrified, "What kind of a rogue do you take me for?!"

Elsa laughed as though revelling in the absurdity of needing a chaperone when with the impresario.

Mercifully Jahnke coloured slightly, now quite sure that he had been thoroughly mistaken, "Quite right," he said at last, "Excuse me. I do hope you feel better soon."

He kissed Elsa on the cheek before returning to the waiting arms of his fiancée.

"What kind of a rogue do I take you for Max?" Elsa muttered to her companion as they climbed into a waiting car.

"As devious and under-handed as your good self?"

They laughed contentedly.


	9. Chapter 9

_NINE_

"Thank heavens for that!" Georg declared as their chauffer-driven car swept them away from the glitz and glamour of the Hotel Sacher and into the dusky streets of Salzburg.

Maria, settled in the crook of his arm, smiled up at him.

"I think it all went well, don't you?" she asked, "Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves at any rate."

"It was perfect, my darling," he paused, "Thank you."

"And I think most of the doubters had accepted our marriage by the end of the evening."

Georg chuckled, "My love I couldn't care less what they thought. If someone in that company cannot see how wonderful you are, then frankly I'm embarrassed to call them a friend..." he kissed her forehead, "But yes, I think they did. You charmed them all quite nicely... just as you charmed me in the first place!"

"Charmed you?"

"O-ho, yes!" he chuckled again.

"I can't imagine that I knew what I was doing."

"Then it must be a natural talent."

She ran her hand across his cheek, bringing his lips down to her own.

Georg laughed again when they broke apart, "The same certainly does not hold true now, my dear!"

"Oh?" she smiled up at him.

"I think you now know quite well what you are doing. And you are exceedingly," he began to kiss her again, "Infuriatingly... wonderfully... good at it."

"Georg..." she began a short time later, now moulded firmly into his embrace, "Where exactly are we going?"

"Ah well, that is a surprise, my dear... you will have to wait and see!"

She sighed softly, pretending to be annoyed.

"After all, I have to be able to keep some secrets from you! You found out where I was planning to take us for our honeymoon far too easily if I remember rightly!"

Maria laughed as well, remembering the evening in which she had managed to extract that particular piece of information from her husband.

Husband. The word had a delightful sound to it.

Twenty minutes later the car drew to a halt. They were well away from the lights of the city now, and the air felt fresh and cool on Maria's face as she stepped outside. She gasped in delight when she saw where they were.

"Oh how wonderful!" she clapped her hands together, staring around at the beautiful mountain-side laid out in front of them. They were high up, nearly at the peak of one of the summits, far above the bustle of the city below. Maria could see the Hohensalzburg fortress in the distance, and could just about make out some of the surrounding buildings.

The sun was low in the sky now, bathing the landscape in a beautiful palette of reds and golds.

"I hoped we would make it up here in time for sunset," Georg said, wrapping his arms around her from behind, "Come on, we have a few minutes and the view will be even better from inside."

For the first time she noticed the building that they had drawn up in front of. With a rustic stone facade and candles burning in the windows, at first glance it looked rather shabby, perhaps even a little run down. That was not the case however, and as Maria followed her husband inside, she found herself in a well-appointed lobby, decked out in sumptuous dark colours and with a fire burning merrily in an enormous grate.

They were greeted as soon as they had stepped inside.

"Baron and Baroness Von Trapp," a fine suited bell boy bowed low to them, "Welcome. Please come this way."

Maria stood back to allow Georg to check them into the hotel, choosing instead to admire the decoration. Unlike the Sacher, the fine luxury was not the slightest bit intimidating. Instead it felt warm and intimate, both understated and thoroughly beautiful at the same time.

She absolutely loved it.

A few minutes later they were escorted by the same bell boy through a narrow wood panelled passageway and into an elevator. It was a short ride to the top floor of the hotel and the elevator opened out directly in front of a dark wooden door.

It appeared that the floor was devoted entirely to this room, for there was no sign of any other doors or passageways.

The bell boy unlocked the door and bowed his head smartly.

"Do you require a tour of your suite, Captain?"

"No thank you," Georg replied, "That is excellent."

A few moments later he was gone and they were left alone. With a glance towards her husband, Maria began to walk towards the doorway, but was stopped by his hand on her arm.

"Do allow me, will you?" he asked before suddenly scooping her up in his arms. She giggled, looping her arms around his neck as he carried her across the threshold.

It was a very large room, yet the rosewood panelling and dark decor made it feel wonderfully small and cosy. One wall was almost entirely taken up by another large open fire, in front of which stood a sofa and two armchairs. Two doors led off from the room, one to a gorgeous well-appointed bathroom, the other to a bedroom.

It was intimate, luxurious and absolutely perfect.

"Come through here...!" Georg led her through into the bedroom. Her feet sank into the thick carpet as she followed him inside to find a wreath of red roses laid out on the bedspread. He picked one up and handed it to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead before looping his arm around her and leading her out onto the large balcony which opened on one side of the room.

The view was utterly captivating. They had arrived just in time to watch the sun set.

Georg wrapped his arms tightly around Maria as they stood together, watching in a comfortable silence as the sun disappeared behind the towering majesty of the Untersburg.

"It's just perfect," Maria whispered, "Thank you."

He kissed the back of her neck.

"_You_ are perfect," he whispered in return.

She turned around into his embrace and he rested his head on top of hers, watching as the colours faded from the sky. Silently he thanked God for the gift of the woman he held in his arms, the woman who had brought such happiness and contentment back into his life.

He was inordinately lucky.

A short while later, and feeling a little more composed, Maria turned around to look outwards again. She settled herself back into Georg's arms as she searched the lights of Salzburg, not wanting to step out of the safety and security of his embrace.

He watched as she scrutinised the darkness carefully.

"It's just there, I think..." he pointed his arm forwards, knowing exactly what his wife would be looking for.

She followed his direction, and broke into a smile as sure enough she made out the onion tower of Nonnberg, settled comfortably amongst the other lights. She had wondered if she would miss the abbey, especially after the difficult farewells of the morning, but instead she just felt a pleasant sort of contentment. She was looking back on a part of her life which had been happy and fulfilling, she decided, but which she had now journeyed on from.

Georg shifted slightly behind her and she smiled again.

"What are you thinking, my love?" he whispered in her ear.

"How wonderful it is to stand here as your wife," she answered simply and truthfully, "And how thankful I am to you, and the children, and... everyone there," she nodded towards the tower again before feeling her voice break once more.

Georg gathered her back into his embrace, wrapping his arms even more tightly around her.

She composed herself again in a few minutes time and looked up. Their eyes met properly for the first time since stepping onto the balcony, and suddenly the memory of their unfinished kisses in the gardens of the Sacher and in the supposed privacy of the car came rushing back. For the first time since becoming husband and wife, they were truly alone.

Maria had expected to feel nervous, once the moment finally arrived, for she knew now that when her husband started kissing her, he would have no need and no desire to stop. She trusted him though, enough to have already given him her heart. He brought his lips closer to her own and she shivered slightly.

"Let's go inside," he murmured.

She felt his breath rush across her lips and shivered again. Managing a nod, she led the way back into the bedroom.

The large four poster bed sat invitingly, and rather terrifyingly, in front of her.

Her nervousness grew as Georg turned back around from closing the balcony door.

"Uh... shall we...?" he indicated back into the living room and Maria let out a soft sigh of relief. He would not rush her, she was quite certain. However much he wanted and desired her, his paramount concern was to make her feel comfortable and at ease.

She loved him all the more because of it.

Georg removed his jacket as they walked back into the living room, setting it down next to the ceremonial sword which he had unclipped from his belt as they had arrived. She watched as he made his way over to the main door, locking it securely and then extinguishing the lights, leaving only the glow of the fire. He unfastened his waistcoat as he came back around, expertly setting another log into the grate.

Maria suddenly felt rather overdressed as she perched on the edge of the sofa in her wedding gown.

"Have I told you yet how beautiful you look...?" he spoke very softly as he came across to sit beside her.

She met his gaze again, sure that Georg Von Trapp had never looked as handsome as he did in that moment, the light from the fire dancing over his face, accentuating his dark hair and sparkling in the depths of those deep midnight blue eyes.

The thought that he was now hers and she his was quite incredible, and Maria wondered if there would ever be a time in her life when she would cease to be amazed and awed by this fact. She hoped not.

He lifted his hand and stroked it carefully through her hair and down her cheek before running his fingertips over her lips. She kissed his fingers as they brushed across her mouth and he moved closer, edging slowly nearer to her as though afraid that if he moved too quickly she would disappear.

She watched as his lips edged nearer to her own.

He paused a few inches away and she felt his hands meet behind her neck. Carefully his fingers undid the top button on the back of her dress. His gaze became questioning, and she replied by lifting her own slightly trembling hands to his collar. The smooth metal of the Maria Theresa cross landed in her hands as she unhooked the catch.

She smiled down at the medal as she rested it carefully on the arm of the sofa before bringing her arms back around to undo the next button. Soon she had reached the bottom of the shirt and rather tentatively pulled the two sides apart.

He watched as she ran her gaze up from his stomach, across his chest and finally back to his face, his heart beating almost painfully fast at her silent, unhurried examination. The colour rose in her cheeks adorably as she slid her hands inside the shirt, resting them carefully on his shoulders.

"Turn around." He stopped her before the exploration became unbearable, "Please..."

She met his gaze with a heavy-lidded one of her own before obligingly pivoting around. He was greeted with a long line of small white buttons, and, just as slowly as she had done, began to undo them, working his way downwards, carefully opening the dress further with every twist of his fingers. He made certain not to touch her skin until the very last one was unfastened.

Her breathing was already quick, and turned into a rather strangled sigh as he finally slid his hands under the fabric, running them down her back and along the curve of her body. Instinctively she arched backwards into him, meeting his lips as he lowered them to kiss his way down the exposed stripe of skin.

She gasped again as he gently slid his hands around, then hissed in frustration as he drew them away.

"Georg...?"

He chuckled into her ear before gently lifting the two sides of the dress from her shoulders and letting them drop to her waist. He waited.

"I love you, Maria," he at last whispered into her ear.

His words gave her the confidence to turn back around and face him, finding his eyes with her own. He could see a nervousness hiding in the depths of her gaze, a fear that perhaps he would not approve of what he saw, that perhaps having done something like this before, he would have been expecting something different. And a fear, Maria admitted to herself, as unfounded as it was, that he would suddenly change his mind, decide that she was not what he wanted, and that he did not love her after all. It was a fear born in that moment on the terrace when she had seen the man she loved engaged to another woman, and had convinced herself, firmly but not irrevocably, that he could and would never love her.

Georg was determined to lay that fear to rest forever, for the sight which greeted his eyes as his wife turned around was the most glorious he had ever seen. She was beautiful, exquisite, perfect... and he loved her more than he had ever believed possible.

"Beautiful..." he whispered before gathering his arms about her and gently leaning her back to lie flat on the sofa.

Still he hovered above her, his lips now just inches from her own, the lapels of his open shirt framing his face in the firelight.

"Maria?" he whispered.

She lifted her lips closer towards his, stopping them just before they met.

"Yes?"

"May I make love to you?"

She answered by closing the gap between them, melting into his embrace, at last bringing their lips firmly together.


	10. Chapter 10

_EPILOGUE_

When he awoke in the morning, Georg Von Trapp kept his eyes squeezed tightly shut, half-afraid to open them lest he discover that the night before had been a dream. If he were to find himself alone again, well he would just not be able to bear it... But that was definitely not the case, he realised as he dredged himself into consciousness, for he could feel a warm body pressed against his and hear the rhythmic breathing of the woman sleeping beside him. He smiled broadly, now perfectly content to open his eyes.

He feasted his gaze on his wife, drinking in the sight of her nestled so peacefully against him. A slight smile played on her lips as her shoulders rose and fell. Her hair was delightfully tousled, her lips as enticingly smooth and plump as always.

He skimmed his eyes downwards, annoyed to see that the bed covers hid most of the rest of her figure. He could remember well though, his recollections helped by the feel of the curve of her hip pressed against his leg, and the touch of her other hand draped lazily over his chest. He became suddenly impatient to wake her.

But she looked so contented and at peace. He thanked God again, this time for the night that they had shared.

He had been afraid, given that she had never expected to find such things in her life that she would have been more reluctant, more guarded with him. In the end he had just been honoured by the amount of trust that she had placed in him, and delighted, thrilled, and exhilarated by her enthusiasm.

He was a passionate man by nature, at least he had been. Any of his former lovers would have attested to that.

And he was certain, after the night that they had shared, that Maria could be an equally passionate woman.

Georg shifted reflexively.

It would be quite wrong to wake her just to satisfy his own physical desires... wouldn't it?

He did not have too long to debate the morality of this decision, for Maria's eyes suddenly flicked open. Her face broke into a broad smile.

It was a rather wonderful sight to awaken to, she decided as she opened her eyes to see her husband lying above her. It was a sight quite reserved for intimate couples, and one which she already loved.

"Good morning," he greeted her with a lop-sided smile of his own.

She kissed his hand as he grazed it across her cheek and began to lift herself upwards, intending to kiss him on the lips.

He groaned as she stretched her body along his own, and Maria blushed. He looked almost apologetic.

"We, um... don't have to... I mean if you don't..."

She laughed. He was utterly adorable in his awkwardness, and as lovely as she had ever seen him.

She pretended to consider for a minute, keeping him waiting and shifting her weight subtly from side to side as she pondered.

He took a shaky breath and lay back on the pillows, his eyes closed.

"You are a cruel woman, my darling..."

She laughed again, amused and flattered by the effect she was having on him.

"And whilst you are being such a gentleman..." she kissed his chest lightly.

He recognised the playful, flirtatious note in her voice and responded in kind, suddenly rolling her over onto the other side of the bed, pinning her against the sheets with his weight.

"A gentleman, hmm?" he questioned.

Her breath caught on her reply.

"Aren't you always?"

It was his turn to laugh and also- now that he was absolutely sure his wife wanted him as much as he wanted her- his turn to tease.

"Hmm... sometimes..." he kissed the hollow of her neck, "Though I have been called _other_ things..."

"What things?" her words disappeared into a gasp.

"Oh, terrible things my darling..."

He kissed his way to her ear.

"Let's see..." he moved away with an amused smirk, hearing her sigh of consternation as he lifted himself onto his elbows.

"_Georg..._"

"A scoundrel from time to time..." she reached out towards him now, but he would have none of it, instead catching her wrist and lifting her hand to his lips to kiss it.

"A rogue..."

"I take it back," she answered, "You're not a gentleman at all! In fact you're quite a-"

He laughed, "Rascal...?" he suggested, running his hand carelessly across her stomach, "You'll find, my dear, you have married quite the pirate..."

"And you waited until now to tell me this?!"

"Oh, I'm sure you knew that quite well all along..." he replied, lowering his lips back to her neck and whispering in her ear, "Being a gentleman can become most terribly dull at times..."

He watched as she tensed her lips, still smiling, though bound by her competitiveness not to break first. He knew precisely what he was doing however, and soon had elicited exactly the reaction he had been hoping for.

"Georg... please..."

He couldn't keep the conversation going much longer, especially not with such a plea.

"In fact at this very moment, my darling..." he continued, "I have quite the mind to show you just how very _un_-gentlemanly I can be..."

xx

It was a rather different sight which greeted Maria when she awoke the next morning, though fortunately one which still included her husband. For a moment she was slightly disorientated, until the rhythmical jolting motion she felt coming from somewhere underneath the floor reminded her that they were in a first class train compartment, speeding towards Paris.

Paris. She could hardly believe it. To visit such a city had never been a thought which she had even entertained. Almost until the moment they had boarded the train the previous evening, she had believed that her feet would never touch the ground of any country except for her beloved Austria.

The children and Max had come to see them off, racing along after the train as it had pulled away from the platform. Maria and Georg had waved to them until they had vanished into a cloud of steam.

Maria was sure that she would miss them all terribly, though at that moment she could think of nothing better than spending six weeks uninterrupted with her husband.

He lay, still sleeping, seemingly undisturbed by the clattering sounds of the train which had woken Maria earlier than usual. She smiled and kissed him softly on the forehead before gently extricating herself from the bed covers.

Her nightgown lay discarded on the floor and she picked it up, blushing at the sight of it. It had been a rather embarrassing moment the evening before when she had discovered that all she had to wear to bed was the same nightgown she had owned as a governess. The 'tent of a garment' as her husband had put it, was certainly not what she had supposed he would most like her to wear, but it was all that had been packed in her overnight bag. At least it had not mattered on their wedding night, she had mused before bracing herself for what her husband might say.

"I'm quite sure I told Frau Schmidt to destroy that infernal garment!" he had declared, regarding her in amusement as she had stood awkwardly in front of him.

A few minutes later however, his reaction had somewhat changed. Apparently removing her from that particular nightgown had crossed his mind on more than one occasion.

"In fact it occupied my dreams disturbingly often after seeing you in it that first evening..." he had admitted with a wink.

"The first evening?!"

He had shrugged sheepishly, "Um-hmm...Well I might have been out of my mind with anger, and thought you an undisciplined, hot-headed, naive-"

"-stubborn, megalomaniacal, pig-headed-" she had retorted with a smile.

"Exactly..." he had come slowly towards her, "And I might well be all of those things. But I am still a man. I did notice."

She had not remained in the nightgown for long.

She smiled at the memory, a silly rather goofy smile, before making her way into the adjoining bathroom.

By the time she returned, Georg had awoken, though he still sat in bed, propped up on the pillows. The sight of him immediately caused her to blush. She still had not got used to seeing him in such a state of undress.

He tut-ted when he saw that she was fully clothed.

"I much prefer the way we uh... _woke up_, yesterday," he answered her questioning glance.

"Me too, my love," she kissed him lightly on the lips, "But we are due into Paris in an hour."

It was in fact a little over an hour before the train drew into a bustling Gare Du Nord, and time therefore for Georg Von Trapp to have his way after all.

Maria had never seen anything like the station before. It was busy, full of people running this way and that, clambering on and off trains departing from the many different platforms. The air was filled with the smell of steam, the whistles of the railway guards, and a perpetual hum of chatter in a language Maria was entirely unfamiliar with.

Everything was excitingly foreign, new, and different.

Maria stayed close to her husband as they made their way to the station concourse, and listened in admiration as he conducted a fluent conversation with a taxi driver. Soon they were speeding away from the station and into the boulevards of Paris, the scenery flashing by the windows in a bewildering, exhilarating mass of colours.

Georg smiled at his wife's wide-eyed expression as she pressed her nose against the window of the car, and listened in delight as she drew his attention to the passing people and buildings. He had been sure that she would love Paris, and could not wait to show her around the city which he so admired.

Their hotel was not far away from the main station, tucked down a deceptively small and winding street. Once again Georg had chosen accommodation which many others might have overlooked, confident that his wife would appreciate the intimacy of staying somewhere slightly smaller- though certainly not a bit less luxurious- than the grand establishments on the Champs-Elysees. He could well imagine Elsa delighting in daily sojourns around the ballrooms of such decadent places, in fact he had seen it for himself just a few months ago, but was sure that Maria would find far greater delight in the more personal and careful touches of the hotel he had chosen.

It seemed that he had been quite right in his estimations, for they had scarcely entered their suite before she had flung her arms around his neck, kissing him full on the mouth.

It was a gorgeous room- a little larger than their mountain retreat in Salzburg- for after all, they would be spending over a month living there- but with carefully crafted furnishings and well-placed lighting, he was sure that the rooms would have just as intimate an atmosphere.

The best feature though was by far the view. Once again the suite took up the entire top floor of the hotel and an elegant, white-railed balcony stretched around the entire perimeter of the building, offering them a perfect view of the Parisian landscape in every direction.

They had hardly explored the room at all before Maria had led the way outside, gasping in delight at the panorama laid out in front of her.

"Oh, it's just wonderful!" she exclaimed, turning full circle.

They walked the length of the balcony hand in hand, Georg pointing out all of the famous monuments they could see, with the promise that he would take her to every single one of them. The Eiffel Tower, Champs- Elysees, Arc De Triomphe, Sacre Coeur, Notre Dame... all places which Maria had only read about, and which she now saw before her very eyes.

"It's a place of great contrasts, I've always thought," Georg said as they stepped back inside, "Boulevards and winding alleys, glorious ballrooms and... uh... seedy bars..." she hissed in exasperation as his musings turned into a chuckle, "Sorry my dear..." he cleared his throat, winking at her, "Penniless artists living alongside some of Europe's wealthiest aristocrats... You can't walk for two minutes before you see some unusual marriage of ideas somewhere..."

"Like Captain and governess?" she suggested.

He regarded her carefully before nodding his head slowly, "In which case the Parisians are the luckiest of people..." he paused, "Because those unusual marriages have a habit of working out perfectly."

END

_Just wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing this story! Hope you enjoyed it – please let me know what you thought. _


End file.
